


The Blues.

by eoghainy



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Boxing day idea, But whenever Sebastian is involved things get fucked up, Cliché college situation, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Malec, Maybe smut too ??, Sizzy - Freeform, Throwing in some Isabelle & Sebastian in there because I ship them, We'll see about that last one, angst of course, clace, how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8189360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eoghainy/pseuds/eoghainy
Summary: College. It's supposed to be the best years of your life, right? Wrong. It's hell. With popular frat boys who throw amazing parties, vindictive little blondes, a man with hair and eyes as dark as night, and dear lord, angst galore, it's absolute hell. In fact, it's worse than hell! Especially when you're in love with that popular frat boy and you have to deal with his stunning stupid girlfriend and live with a bunch of extremely hot dudes. College is so much fun!





	1. boxing day.

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes, dudes! I've had lots of muses for The Mortal Instruments, so I decided to go with a cliché thing & see where it takes me. Feedback would be appreciated!

Hands touched the teens shoulders, gently squeezing them and sending discomfort throughout his sore body. “You’re going to be fine,” a gruff voice tried to reassure him, and the weight on his shoulders disappeared. The heavy box clutched in his gasp faltered for a moment, but he refused to let it fall. There was no way he was going to show weakness in front of his father, not when his father already thought of him as a disappointment! “Alexander, you’re going to be absolutely fine. You don’t have to worry about anything. You’ll go through all of your classes, and your siblings will, too.” There was no pride in his fathers voice, and he couldn’t help but wince. Wasn’t there at least one thing that his father was proud of his son for doing?

“Do you have to _gooooo_?” A voice whined, hands clinging to the teens pant leg. Forcing a strained smile on his face, he bent down to ruffled his brothers dark, curly hair. Their gazes met; one wide and bright cyan, brimming with shining tears, whilst the others were an identical cyan, reassuring and filled with only love, not sadness.

“I’ll come home for the holidays,” he promised, ignoring his fathers snort of contempt. It seemed so loud to him. He hated listening to his father make his snide comments and disgruntled noises behind his back, knowing that his son could hear every single one of them. It was almost like he was pushing Alec to a breaking point. “Then I’ll show you all the things I've collected, okay Max?” His brother sniveled, being pulled away from his leg by their strict father. He pulled Max into his arms, and his stare seemed to challenge Alec into saying something to provoke him. Instead of falling for the bait, he remained silent. He didn’t want to get into it with him today; not when this was his last day with him in his presence. He would still have to suffer through holidays with his disapproval, and his disgust, but Alexander could live was that. No longer would he have to live under his roof full time with his stupid rules! Alec could have as many boyfriends that as he wanted, and sleep with as many men as he wished. A part of him knew that it would never happen, albeit. He was far too reserved and shy to even ask another male to go out with him. It would take some serious gall on his end for him to do such a brazen thing.

Heels clicked on the pavement. Steadily, his mother drew closer to her gathered boys. Her long, dark hair was tucked neatly back into a bun, and for a moment, Alec admired her poise and resolve. She had stayed with her husband and dealt his bullshit for well over twenty years. Alec wasn’t surprised that she had once sought comfort from another man long before Max was born, but there was no part of him that could blame his mother for what happened. His father hardly touched her these days, hardly even looked at her. There was no romance in their marriage anymore. Alec wondered if they would get divorced once Max was old enough to go to college, or if their marriage could even survive that much longer. The last few months at home had been filled with his parents quiet arguments, both of them trying all too hard to get a rise out of the other.

Robert had been the first one to cheat, once upon a time. Then, Maryse cheated back before Isabelle was born. A heavy secret lay upon Alec’s chest, one that he had known for a long time: he knew the truth behind his sisters true parentage, but he would never tell her. His father had no idea. He adored Isabelle with every fiber of his being. She was his princess, his only means to living now. Knowing what Alec knew would crush Robert, and his father would become much worse in temperament than he already was. Once upon a time he had been tempted to bring Robert’s fantasy world crashing down, but he thought better of it. If anything, it would reflect badly on him, and Robert would despise him more than he already did.

“Robert, don’t ruin their moment. You know how close Max is to his elder siblings.” Their mother chided. She gently took Alec’s face in her hands, pressing a chaste kiss to his warm forehead. Her hands, much like Alec's, were soft on his skin. He closed his eyes, leaning into her familiar touch for the last time in a while. “I’ll call you every Wednesday, at five o’clock sharp. You and Max can Skype every Saturday morning around eleven, and as soon as the holidays roll around and you have no classes, you can come back to the Institute. I’ll keep your room ready for you.” Her fingers ruffled his long, dark hair, reminding Alec without fail that he was all too similar in looks to his father. He opened his eyes, taking a good look at the familiar crinkles that pulled at Maryse’s lips and eyes. His mother was so beautiful; Robert didn’t deserve a woman such as her. “At least you won't be alone. Isabelle and Jace are here with you. And get a haircut!” She lightly cuffed Alec around the head, and he ducked away, embarrassed. 

“ _Maryse_ ,” Robert's voice was curt, showing that it was time for her to step away from her eldest son. “We have to get going if we’re to make it home for Valentine’s meeting on time.” Alec didn’t fail to hear the way disgust continued to line his tone. His heart sank deeply into his stomach, but it was soon pulled out when he saw the sympathy in his mothers eyes. She always said that he looked so much like her, but Alec knew that her words were always said in order to comfort him. He didn’t want to believe that he did look like his father, but every part of him knew it. They had the same eyes, the same lips, the same sharp planes of their faces, and Alec’s hair was the same exact way that Robert’s was when Robert was his age. Thank God he didn’t act like his father. He knew he would have thrown himself off the highest tower the Institute if he did!

His parents shared a long look for a moment, and then his mother sighed audibly again. She ruffled Alec’s hair lovingly one last time, offering him a half-smile. She really tried when it came to her eldest son; Maryse Lightwood truly did try, and made sure that he always knew that he was loved. By her, by his siblings, by his friends — he had people who would always love him, no matter what. Robert, on the other hand . . . Well, he straight out refused to acknowledge half of the things his eldest son did. When he had come out as gay to his parents a few years back, Robert had almost smacked him. Maryse only walked away, coming to see him later and telling him how much she loved him in the privacy of his room.

A girl came bouncing up, wrapping her arms around Robert’s neck. Her dark hair tickled Robert’s nose. Alec stifled a twinge of jealousy, knowing that it wasn’t his fault that Robert loved her more. “Isabelle, be careful,” he chided, but tired gaze burned with affection that he never showed Alec. 

“If Isabelle was careful, I think it would be the end of the world.” His adoptive brothers arrogant voice sounded right next to his ear, startling Alec enough to make him jump. He tossed a glare over his shoulder at his brother, able to anticipate the arrogance that would line his Jace’s snarky tone. “Jumpy, Alec?”

“You’d be jumpy too if you were leaving home for the first time, Jace.” He answered in a sharp tone. “This box is getting heavy; mind—?”

Their gazes met, and after a moment, Jace rolled his eyes at Alec. Something had put him in a mood, for he was acting like more of an ass than usual. “Fine, lazybones. I’ll just lug all of our stuff to our dorms!” 

“Glad you’re so willing to be the pack mule!” Alec yelled after him, and he heard Jace’s sharp bark of a laugh in return. It brought forth a twinge of warmth inside of him and he closed his eyes, relishing in it whilst it lasted. Jace was just like the sun and Alec was the moon; Jace always shone so brightly, whereas Alec only reflected Jace’s brilliant, golden light in a lesser fashion. Always, he was cast in Jace’s shadow, nothing compared to the boy that radiated life and was loved by everyone. He was something worth living for, worth changing for. Alec knew he would never compare to him, never truly catch the aspect of Jace’s attention that he truly desired. Even though he would never get it, he was perfectly content with being in his presence, being his brother and his support, his shadow.

“Oh, Alec, there’s been a change in our dorm arrangement.” His sister spoke to him, and he knew that he must have missed a bit of conversation whilst he had been thinking. Their parents and Max were walking off towards the black limo parked a few feet away, and he saw that his younger brothers fingers were wrapped around his mothers thumb. He was abnormally small for his age: Max was short, and his limbs weren't sturdy enough to support his long torso. He was too spindly, too much like a stick. Alec was that size once many years ago, but he had grown out of it. Alec was now six-foot-three, his weight was evenly distributed throughout his body, and he was well muscled. Max would one day mirror him in that fashion. Or, so he hoped.

Alec narrowed his eyes at her, wondering why his sister had neglected to mention this change until now. “What do you mean by a ‘change’?” He asked, unable to help how wary he was. A part of Alec knew what she was going to say before she said it, but he was hoping—

“You, Jace, Mark and Simon are going to be rooming together. Jordan, when he transfers, is going to be rooming with you guys as well. Clary, Helen, Aline and I are going to have the other dorm, and Maia will share with us once she gets here, too. It's gonna be a bit crowded, but I would prefer that over the silence of the Institute.” Isabelle's dark eyes twinkled, and he wanted to moan in horror. Alec was only really comfortable with Jace; they had shared rooms before when we went on vacation, and he knew that Jace was . . . aware of Alec’s feelings for him. They never had spoke of them. He knew that Alec needed to figure it out on his own, as opposed to relying on him constantly and fawning over him every second. Rooming with several other men was going to be a strain on Alec. He already didn’t like Simon thanks to his connection to his sister, and he was familiar with Mark, but Jordan — he had no idea who this guy was!

Closing his eyes tightly, Alec pressed a long finger against his temple. “I don’t like the idea of sharing a room with a bunch of people I don't know,” he complained. “What, did you get unnerved about sharing a room with a bunch of dudes?” He leaned his forehead against his palm, groaning. “ _I’m_ unnerved about sharing room with a bunch of other dudes, god damnit. Is it too late for me to chicken out?”

Isabelle affectionately touched his shoulder. Her dark gaze had softened, and Alec couldn’t help but think of how this stupid secret he carried would crush her. Every time he saw her eyes, though, he couldn’t help but see _him_. His hands gently touched her cheeks in a playful fashion, and he patted her soft skin, smugly grinning when she scrunched up her features. 

“Don’t touch my face.”

Impishly, Alec poked Isabelle’s hard cheekbone, withdrawing his hands and ducking when she swung at him. “I can touch your face if I so want to,” he challenged, but didn’t follow through with the teasing. He was officially an adult, eighteen years old, enrolled in Morgenstern University, and was about to make his own way in the world! . . . Alec had no idea what he was going to do. Robert wanted him to assume control of the New York branch of the Institute when he finally decided to step down, but that would require having to go through business classes, medicinal classes, scientific classes, and trying to figure out how to develop the right amount of patience to run a business with Sebastian Verlac. Or, rather, figure out how to deal with Sebastian Verlac himself.

Valentine’s grandfather, whom Alec had never met ( _he ended up living to be around one hundred-and-eleven, lucky bastard_ ), had started Morgenstern Corporation, which was a multipurpose medicinal company that created medicines, fooled around with diseases and chemical warfare, _and_ also were well known for their attempts at creating new viruses and bacteria. He passed it onto his son, Jonathan Morgenstern, whom started the idea of the Institutes. Jonathan had this idea of making the company go world-wide, so he installed an Institute in each major city across the United States to start with. Because Morgenstern Corporation wasn't quite . . . well, liked in most major social circles, Jonathan had the brilliant idea of disguising the Institutes externally as semi-run down churches. Inside of each Institute would be levels upon levels of labs, on-hand staff twenty-four seven to be working, and a living quarters for the families that the Morgenstern’s trusted to run their Institutes. The Lightwood’s had been granted the New York City Institute; one of the biggest buildings and the largest testing site that Morgenstern Corporation had to offer. It was a great honor for their family, but it was a lot of pressure upon the children to follow in their parents footsteps.

When Valentine got control of the company around thirty or so years ago, he decided to make a group of executives that he trusted immensely under the title of  _The Circle_. It was supposed to signify the company executives that Valentine would solely associate with and converse with. Anyone else would be redirected to his personal staff to deal with. Robert and Maryse were Valentine’s pets ( _or right hand men_ ); they did whatever he asked of them, and had little to complain about whenever he asked them to do something that was beneath Alec’s personal moral code. No part of him wanted to pursue running the Institute, nor cater to Sebastian’s every single fucking need for the rest of his life. Besides, he’d be absolutely miserable! He had not yet had the misfortune of meeting Sebastian, but he hoped that there would not come a time in which he had to anytime soon.

Alec was actually supposed to go to Morgenstern University a few years prior, but he was absolutely terrified of going alone. He had heard horrid things about Morgenstern University; why would he want to go there alone, and suffer through his however-many-year-long-term by himself? Instead, he had chosen to wait until all of his friends, and his two siblings, were of age to go. Robert was not happy with him when he had found out. Fresh rage and disappointment had welled in his expression, so much so that Alec felt as if he were being disowned all over again. No matter what he did, and what choices he had made, his father was never happy with him. All his life, trying to please this father had been an uphill battle: one where every time he slipped, he fell right back to the bottom and was forced to start all over again.

Did he do something in a past life that was so terrible that it earned him his fathers hatred? Or, was Robert just so damn miserable that he had to take out all of his frustrations on his eldest son? Whatever it was, Alec was glad to finally be away from it.

Regardless, Alec had been scared of what he would do by himself here. His father had always been quick to fill his brain with tales about colleges and what happen there. Rapes, drug addictions, theft, being expelled from campus for no reason, the occasional murder — and then he would switch gears completely, telling Alec that Morgenstern never had anything like that happen there. It was obvious now that Robert had been manipulating him to get him to decide that he wanted to go to Morgenstern on his own, but it hadn’t worked out that way. Instead, Alec decided that he was going to wait. He would wait for Jace and Isabelle, and  _then_ go to Morgenstern with them. Robert could never tell him otherwise because Alec had been legally considered an adult. Eighteen, able to make his own decisions, and Robert had only had to deal with him for close to another year before he was finally rid of his son. Now, he was close to turning nineteen, and was starting a brand new adventure at Morgenstern University.

“You wanna help me with these boxes?” Isabelle’s voice broke into his thoughts. “We’ll get it done faster if we both carry it to the dorms.”

Their dorms, thankfully, were right next to each other. Due to Isabelle’s request, Robert had pulled some strings to get dorms right across the hall from each other. Also thanks to Robert, their dorms were the biggest that the University had to offer. “ _Each dorm could at least house ten people each._ ” Robert had stated when he drove his children to the University that morning. “ _Five bedrooms that can be evenly split between two people, both with a personal bathroom attached. Because your last name is Lightwood, Herondale, Fairchild, Morgenstern, Penhallow, Blackthorn, or whatever, you automatically get some perks that . . . other students do not. Clarissa is very lucky she managed to persuade the dean to let_ three _children of non-Circle members dorm with you. Remember that you should not mention whatever perks you have to other students. They do not know what the Circle is, nor what we can do. It will only bring you three issues during your stay._ ”

Although Simon, Maia and Jordan wouldn’t get the same exact perks that the second-generation Circle kids would, they were still going to be treated well because Robert had personally requested it. Everything that really happened to children of the Circle members when they were in school was because a parent requested it! In Alec’s opinion, it was unfair; why should they get more advantages than the normal kids that applied to Morgenstern? Why should they be treated any different?

Back on the topic of the Circle, Alexander had no idea what it was that they did. He had never been allowed in on one of the meetings, and his parents never saw fit to key him into whatever it was that they did or what they talked about. When Valentine died, or stepped down, Sebastian would be in control of that, the Institutes, Morgenstern Corporation, and the Circle. If Alec did eventually make up his mind and he did decide to go into Morgenstern Corporation, he would be Sebastian’s right hand because his father and mother were Valentine's right hand before him. It wasn’t complicated, but the very idea of his bland, awful future made Alec’s head throb.

“Yeah, of course. I had Jace carry my box of books, he didn’t seem to complain very much. Which is kinda odd for him.” Bending down, he scooped up one of the boxes that felt far too light. Suspiciously, he turned the box around in his grasp, seeing that it had _skirts_ scrawled across the side in Isabelle’s spidery, loopy writing. “Did you bring every clothing item you own?” He grumbled. 

“Did you expect anything less of me?” Isabelle had a duffle bag draped across her good shoulder, and a large box in her arms. It had the words: _shoes & belts_, scrawled across the side in Isabelle’s handwriting, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Speaking of Jace, where did he go? He hasn’t come back out from the dorm yet.”

Looking around the parking lot, Alec tried to pinpoint his adoptive brothers mop of gold hair. There was no sign of Clary, either; the redheaded girl was gone. Simon, however, was lugging a particularly large box towards the direction of the dorm, and Alec internally groaned. “He’s probably sucking face with Clary in our dorm,” he muttered, clearly annoyed. “Leaving all the hard work to us!”

* * *

It took three hours to lug all of the boxes into both dorms. Clary and Jace had officially disappeared: there was no sign of either teen anywhere. For hours, Simon had been muttering to himself about how he  _‘isn’t Clary's personal slave’_ , and how he was _‘going to kill her as soon as she got back’_. Isabelle, unfortunately, was no help either. She had sat upon her pre-chosen bed in her dorm, filing down her nails and directing her brother where to place down her boxes. Though Alec knew that Isabelle had a bulging disc in her left shoulder, and that she shouldn't be doing a lot of heavy lifting, he still cussed her out through the entire time, tossing glare after glare at her whilst she sat, simply watching him.

He hadn’t missed the longing in her dark eyes. 

For three years, Isabelle has had a bulging disc in her shoulder. From years of being bent over tables working on homework and thus making the injury worse by all of the physical training she had endured, a doctor had finally put a stop to all the abuse. Since she was far too young for a surgery that could end up doing more harm than good, the doctor had advised that she simply rest. Go to physical therapy whenever she could, and  _stop_  making the injury worse with her recklessness. She missed the endurance training, she missed being involved in everything that Alec was, she missed being independent. She had looked forward to being able to move into her own dorm for so long that Alec knew that it had to be killing her to watch him do it for her. She was a stubborn, independent girl, and she hated on relying on others for help. He knew her as well as he knew himself, and he knew that his pity would be unwelcome, so he kept it as far away from his expression as he could.

Exhausted, he plopped down on the bed with her, sweat beading on the back of his neck and flattening his hair down onto his skull. His muscles burned; some of those boxes had been so _fucking_ heavy. What had Isabelle packed them with? At this point, knowing his sister, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Thank you,” Isabelle murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. She didn’t mean to mind his sweatiness.

“You better love me a lot.” He answered, but wrapped his arms around her anyway. She was his little sister; he was always going to be obligated to help her out, regardless of the situation.

“The dorms are already set up? How great! I thought it was going to be a long day of lugging boxes around. Seems that someone already did it for me.” Jace’s voice sounded inside of the dorm as he slid inside, a breathless and flushed Clary following. Jace plopped down on the bare bed opposite, reclining against the wall and meeting his gaze steadily with Alec’s.

There was no way Alec was going to let Jace get off easy. “Yeah, I had to do all the heavy-lifting. Where were you, huh?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

“Just out.”

“You mean, having sex?” Isabelle piped up, and Alec shot her a nasty glance.

Jace, on the other hand, was silent. He hesitated, his mouth opening and then snapping shut. As Clary sat down on the edge of the mattress beside him, he seemed to finally come up with a snarky response. “At least _someone_ is getting laid around here.”

Clary swept in, skillfully changing the topic. Alec didn’t miss how flustered she had become. “There’s a boxing day party going on here tonight in one of the biggest frat houses,” her voice was light, clear with excitement. “It’s being thrown by someone named _Magnus Bane_. He’s apparently in his last year, a frat boy of course, and extraordinarily popular. It might get us some brownie points to attend it, yeah?” She tucked a long lock of her red hair behind her ear, rolling her shoulders back as she spoke. “Plus, it might be a good opportunity to branch out a bit: maybe make a few more friends?”

Isabelle looked excited, face brightening immediately. “I would love to go!” She loved parties. Most of her senior year had been spent at parties, with her usually coming home drunk and Alec having to cover for her.

Jace was nodding along, whilst Alec looked more uncertain. He  _felt_  uncertain; the idea of going to a frat party wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. He would much rather be unpacking, putting his clothes away in the dresser and figuring out how to place his own trinkets on his half of the room. When Jace, Isabelle and himself went to go figure who would be bunking in what room and with whom, and how things would be set up, Alec had decided that he was going to have to put up a few shelves above his bed. 

. . . And hope that he didn’t bash his head on them every single time he woke up.

“We _should_ go,” Simon slid into the room, plopping down on the bed beside on Isabelle’s other side. 

Feeling uncomfortable, Alec slid to the far end to the bed. He leaned his back against the headboard, Isabelle’s coverless pillow scrunched up between his the small of his back and the frame. It took away some of the strained feeling in his muscles, but not all. His knees were pulled up to his chest, long arms draped around his legs and resting on his shins. His fingers were locked tightly around his left wrist, gaze narrowing dangerously at Simon. He and Isabelle were sitting too close; shoulders brushing, and hardly any personal space between them. Albeit them all sitting on a twin bed, there was enough room for Isabelle and Simon to sit with personal space between the two of them.

He could understand Clary and Jace sitting that close together, but Simon and Isabelle? _No_. At some point, he was going to have to talk to Simon and figure out his intentions with his sister, though he knew he could already guess at them.

“I’m gonna pass,” Alec slowly answered, taking his mind off of Simon and Isabelle. “Parties aren’t really for me.”

“No!” Isabelle turned towards Alec, looking upset. Her bottom lip stuck out childishly, and her dark eyes were gleaming with intensity. “You have to come, it’ll be more than fun with all of us there!” She took his left hand, causing his fingers to unwind around his wrist, and squeezed gently. The two of them were almost identical in every sense of the word; the same tall, slender bodies, long piano fingers, narrow frames, with slender feet and hands, dark hair, and similar facial structures: high cheekbones, and bright, brilliant smiles. If you looked at them side-by-side, there was no chance the you couldn’t tell that they were siblings. 

Shaking his head, Alec looked even more uncertain. Isabelle’s idea of ‘fun’ was not the same as his own. “I don’t really want to go. I would much rather unpack and get my room set up.” Since there were only five of them so far, soon to be ten in total, each of them could get their own room and their own bathroom for a short time. But there were always late college transfers. One of these days, it was going to change so that eventually they would have to share their rooms, regardless if they wanted to. 

Jace looked annoyed. “You’re coming and that’s that.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll go and scope out this Bane fellow, see what we can learn from him about this college, and then you don’t have to go to any college party ever again. That I can promise.” 

Isabelle tossed her head back in a wide, giddy laugh as Clary spoke. “It starts in an hour, so go change out of that moth-eaten sweater and into something nice! I’ve seen you in nice clothes before, Alec, I know you’re capable of looking respectable!”

* * *

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you _love_ me. So much so that you’re going to continue being my personal male dress-up doll.” Isabelle stood behind Alec, adjusting his jacket. They were in the room he had chosen, standing in front of a floor-length mirror that Jace had helped him put up on their last trip to the dorm a few weeks back. It needed to be cleaned, but that was a task for a later date. He could still see himself past the dust and the water stains on the glass. He wished that he couldn’t.

For the first time in his life, Alec had allowed Isabelle to choose his clothes and spruce himself up, and he regretted it so much so that he was ready to vomit from how tacky he looked. She had dolled him up in some flashy cargo pants, an unbuttoned faux silk shirt with a particularly short flak jacket overtop of it, and too-high platform boots that made him look like he was almost seven feet tall. His hair was pulled back into a half-formed bun and greased up with some sort of oil. The dark strands shone in the bright lights of the room. She had even tried putting eyeliner on him, but a few unintentional pokes to his eyes had been where he had put his foot down.

“I’m changing,” Alec groaned in response. He opened a cedar door next to the mirror, sliding into the narrow bathroom. It was a half-bath; just roomy enough for at least two people to be doing two different things at the same time. Against the far wall was a shower with a sliding glass door, one of Alec’s towels draped casually over the top of the door since it didn’t go all the way up to the ceiling. There was no towel rack, so Alec knew that he was going to have to install one at some point. Earlier, he had already put his shampoo and his soap on one of the ledges in the shower, yet it still seemed bare to him. Right next to it was a toilet, and a stand for toilet paper, and across from that was a tiny his-and-hers sink with two small mirrors hung above each one. It was a grimy mirror ( _grimier than the one in his bedroom_ ), and he knew he had to clean it. Well, as soon as he found the time, he should really clean his dorm from top to bottom. Who knows what kind of germs and fluids were leftover from the last person?

Striding onto the tile floor, and ignoring the twinge inside of his chest once he spotted the too-bare walls, he turned on the cold water in the sink he had claimed with his toothbrush and toothpaste. Sticking his head under the faucet, he attempted to clean the oily substance out of his hair, cursing when the icy droplets ran down onto his shoulders and dampened his clothes. After he figured he had scrubbed his scalp enough, and watched as the water drained out of the sink, Alec snatched his towel with difficulty and rubbed his skull until it was partially dry.

Making sure that the door to his room was shut and locked, his gaze spotted his sister sulking on his bed. He had been responsible enough to put sheets on the mattress and the pillows, and at least throw a cover over the twin before leaving it be. “This is why I never let you pick things out for me. You make me look ridiculous!”

“You look flashy!” She retorted, frowning. “But, by all means; go and try to hook up with someone with a sweater that's moth-eaten and a pair of torn jeans. You look homeless all the time.” Isabelle muttered, cupping her chin with her hand. She turned to face the wall where Alec already had plans for shelves when he began changing.

Stripping off the flak jacket and the silky unbuttoned shirt, he tossed them in a crumpled heap by his hamper. Feeling warmth spread across his cheeks thanks to being exposed to his sister, he snatched the first sweater he saw in his suit case. He had been more practical than his sister in more ways than one. Each and every article of clothing he had — that he wanted to bring, of course — he had packed in a suitcase as opposed to packing it all in boxes. Isabelle had chosen a room with a closet in it, so she had decided to pack every fucking thing she owned in boxes to hang up in said closet. Alec just had a dresser. That was fine with him. He didn’t need that much space anyway. He wasn’t like Isabelle, who wore everything _once_ before deciding that it was out of style.

Sometimes he wondered if he would ever fully understand why his sister did some of the things she did.

Sliding the sweater over his head and running his fingers through his already ruffled hair, he made Isabelle turn completely away as he kicked off the platform boots and changed out of the cargo pants into a pair of unripped black jeans. If he was being truthful, they were his _only_ pair of unripped jeans. “Happy?” He muttered, searching for his Converse sneakers. They were tucked away in his suitcase, all the way at the bottom. Crouching down, he rifled through his clothes, seeing them and grabbing them along with a pair of socks.

“No! You still look kinda homeless like that,” Isabelle confessed. “. . . Okay, you don’t. You’re always so shaggy, though. It’s like you don’t care about what you look like.” _I don’t._ Alec thought, but didn’t say it out loud. “Hey! At least you were smart enough to pick a blue sweater! The color really matches your eyes.”

Alec winced at that. “I should change into a gray one, or a black one. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself.” He sat on the floor, pulling on his socks and then his sneakers. His hair was drying in tangled clumps, and he frowned as he laced them up. “Is there anyway I can stay here instead? I really am not looking forward to partying, Isabelle.”

“You’re not getting out of this,” Isabelle rose to her feet, her stilettos clicking on the floor. The sound was almost grating to his ears.

She was dressed in, his opinion, a too short dress. It stopped around the middle of her thighs, and hugged her body in all the right places. If she were to bend over, he knew the dress wouldn’t be able to cover her bottom. It was strapless; wrapping around her chest and seemingly clinging to her torso by nothing more than magic. Her chest was really enunciated, breasts being pushed up with a strapless push-up bra. The supple flesh spilled over the ridge of the dress, calling attention to what she had to offer. Stiletto boots rose all the way to above her knees, and the Lightwood ruby pendant hung around her neck, resting upon her cleavage, seeming snug and at home. Her face was adorned with makeup, which looked absolutely perfect. He had no idea what makeup really did for his sister, but she looked even more beautiful with it than she did without it. Winged eyeliner stretched across her upper eyelids, as well as some other form of makeup that Alec had no interest in. Something about contour? All he knew was that it took at least an hour for her to get it all to her own idea of perfection. She had once tried telling him about how makeup worked, and all he had managed to catch onto was absolutely nothing. But because he loved her, he had humored her; nodding along and making noncommittal noises every so often.

“You’ll go to the party, and I’ll never ask you to go to another one again,” she continued, running her fingers through his hair. Every time her snake wristlet caught a strand of his hair, he would flinch. It was a sharp, unpleasant tugging feeling on his skull, yet she didn't stop, continuously trying to untangle his hair without trying to fish a brush out from his duffle bag or return to her room to get one. 

Alec felt much better now that the stuff Isabelle had put in his hair was out. It felt fluffier and more free than it did ten minutes ago. “Isabelle, I think it’s untangled now,” he complained, letting his head fall back in time with her hand.

“I’m almost done. Without a brush, I can’t do much,” she murmured, pressing one hand down on his shoulder and making him practically crouch so she could have the advantage of height. She was five inches shorter than he was; even with the stilettos, she was still an inch or so shorter. He was bending at his knees, staying still so that she could easily move around him and adjust his hair as she pleased. 

Her breath was warm on his neck, and he tried his best not to shudder. Each time she combed her fingers through his hair, his head would go back, moving with the motion as to stop the tugging on his scalp. She just couldn’t let him be the shaggy mess he wanted to be. What was so wrong with him being unkempt, huh? 

“Okay, done,” Isabelle stepped back to admire her quick handiwork. Her slender hands spun him around so he was facing his mirror. Alec had to admit; she had done a better job this time around. His hair was drier, and it was tucked behind his ears, slightly clouding and looking thicker than it usually did. None of it was spiked up or pulled into a ridiculous bun, or looking oily with whatever she had put in it earlier. It looked natural, framing his angular face.

The door to his room opened, and Jace stuck his head in. Had Isabelle unlocked it when his back was turned, or did the lock genuinely not work? “You two lovebirds ready to go?” His blond eyebrows were arched, and Alec could see that from this distance, there was eyeliner on his adoptive brothers face. It was poorly done; not anything at all like what was on his sisters eyelids.

Smirking, Alec nodded. If only he had a camera, he wanted to treasure this image of Jace forever. But it wasn’t meant to be. “Oh, I’m ready alright. Did you lose a fight to a giant crayon while Izzy and I were in here, or did you decide that you wanted to be a pretty girl?” He couldn’t help but snicker.

Flushing, Jace touched underneath his eyes, examining the residue of black that was left on his fingertips. “Maybe I was! There's no shame in fighting a crayon.”

“Did that crayon at least have a chance to win against the great Jace Herondale?”

“No. Sadly, it did not.” Jace's voice dripped with sorrow. 

Clary slid in beside Jace, her emerald gaze bright with excitement. “Can we go now? Simon, Aline, Helen and Mark are waiting for us to go!” She wrapped both of her hands around Jace’s bicep, squeezing the muscle. Jace, on the other hand, frowned at Alec’s suddenly worried expression. “The party starts in ten minutes!”

Alec carefully wiped away his worry. What could go wrong? It wasn’t like he was majorly stepping out of his comfort zone or anything. He didn’t want to bring down the mood of the whole group. “Fine. Okay, let’s go. Let's go to Magnus Bane’s frat party, and get ourselves so fucking drunk that we can’t even remember what happened the next morning.”

It was going to be a  _long_  night. 


	2. party disasters.

As soon as they arrived, Alec felt incredibly sick. 

The pounding of the bass-heavy music vibrated inside of his eardrums. Bright neon lights flashed whilst hot, sweaty, dancing bodies pushed in on all sides. Conversation was loud as people shouted above the pounding music, trying to make themselves heard to their friends. If Alec wasn’t being knocked one way, he was being knocked another, always in someone’s way, and always ruining someone’s fun. Someone even snapped something very rude at him after he stumbled accidentally into their friend or significant other. He felt as if he had two left feet, and wasn’t even wanted at the party. If he were telling the truth, he probably wasn’t wanted here! Everyone at parties like this seemed to be able to tell who didn’t know how to blend in. It was almost as if there was a spotlight pinpointed on him, following him around everywhere he went, showing that he had no clue as to what he was doing. Even in his high school years, he had never really had that desire to go out and party all night! No, so tonight, he was more lost than he ever was.

Nevertheless, Alec was not offended by their harsh words. Instead, he was hot, tired, and all he wanted to do was curl up on his twin bed with his fluffy comforter and sleep until the sun came up. Now that he didn’t have to share a room with anybody, he was finally going to be able to get a good nights sleep! No more troublesome nights wishing that Jace would just shut the  _fuck_  up. No more troublesome nights in which Alec wondered if he should wake up and shove a dirty sock in his brothers mouth. No more troublesome nights in which he was ready to smother Jace with a giant pillow.

To follow up on the reason why Alec wanted to kill his stupid brother: for the past few weeks, the two boys had been forced to share Alec’s room together. Maryse had needed Jace’s room to put Theresa Herondale up for a few weeks, so she had made the two of them share not just any room — but Alec’s room. Poor Alec had been kept awake by Jace's stupid snoring, and then by his sleep talking! It was absolutely ridiculous. Every night he had gotten no sleep thanks to his stupid brother. If it wasn’t Jace being a total dick accidentally whilst he slept one day, it was Jace and Clary having sex in Alec’s bed on another.

Whilst Jace claimed that it was ‘ _accidental_ ’, and that ‘ _he hadn’t meant it,’_ Alec had finally had enough. After he complained to his mother, Maryse let Max and Alec share, whilst Jace stayed in Max’s room instead. Tonight was supposed to be his first night of bliss; his first night where he could finally sleep a full eight hours without any disturbances from  _anyone_. Within a few days, when Alec confronted Jace about it again and demanding the truth about whether or not Jace and Clary had actually been screwing around in his bed, Jace looked at him and said: “ _Your bed is bigger than mine; more room to roll around!_ ” As soon as he had heard that, Alec had wasted no time in washing his sheets and cursing Jace out every free second he got. No longer did he have to put up with that, albeit! He should be sleeping on his new sheets, his new comforter, and preparing for the morning classes.

Instead, he was stuck at a stupid fucking frat party with no one that he actually was familiar with to hang around. 

Awkwardly, he, Simon and Mark sat together on a cheetah-printed suede couch, all swirling their drinks in the cheap plastic red cups and mumbling things about how it was a great party. The music was so fucking loud that they all strained to hear each other whenever either of them worked up the energy to speak. A part of Alec was terrified that if anyone of them were to spill their drinks on the couch, this infamous Magnus Bane was going to pop up out of nowhere and snap one of their necks for ruining his seemingly expensive couch. Shifting uncomfortably, Alec looked over at his companions, deciding to focus on them for a bit rather than strain to hear any tidbits of conversation over the agonizingly loud music. His gaze ended up straying back to his friends when he could hear nothing. 

Racking his brain to think of something to talk about, Alec frowned. Maybe he could find some conversation topic that would work for the three of them, and they could go outside and talk where it wasn’t so loud? Mark, like Alec himself, looked extraordinarily uncomfortable. His shoulders were stiff, and his fingers were curled around his the fabric of his pants. Mark wasn’t American originally; he and Helen were Russian, and spoke mostly English now despite growing up speaking the Russian tongue. Yet Mark seemed to be slipping back into his mother tongue, for he kept murmuring things underneath his breath that Alec couldn’t even begin to make out. But, hey! All of them had been ditched by the people they wanted to hang out with! Wasn’t that just great? Simon, Alec’s other side, sat with his elbow on his knee and the flat of his palm cupping his chin. He looked enraged. Curious as to what he was looking at, Alec followed his gaze. 

Anger ripped his insides to shreds as he spotted what Simon was looking at. As soon as they had come inside, Isabelle had seemed to spot someone whom she had known, and darted off into the crowd to find them. For the past half an hour, she had been gone; now she had resurfaced. Her too-tight dress was pulled down more in the front, showing off more of her cleavage than she had been before they had left for the party. She had a seductive expression on; lips puckered slightly, eyelids half-lidded, slender fingers twirling around a long lock of her obsidian hair. The person whom she was flirting with reached out, fingers brushing against the ruby pendant on her chest. His fingers graced the fleshy overspill of her breasts, and Alec’s hands instinctively curled into fists at his sides.

Getting ready to rise to his feet, stride across the room and crack his fist across the mans jaw, Alec watched with growing horror as the dark-haired man slid his left hand up Isabelle's neck and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Isabelle’s ruby red lips wrapped around his thumb, and Alec could swear that her tongue darted out to swirl around his finger. Just watching that was enough to make Alec flush, forcibly having to look down at the tile floor to escape his own second-hand embarrassment. When he looked back up, he saw Isabelle and the dark-haired stranger locked at the lips; Isabelle’s hips completely pressed against his and her fingers tangled amongst the locks his hair.

“I need a fucking drink,” Simon muttered, scoffing as he slunk away, heading towards the bar. 

“Get me one, too!” Alec called after his retreating form, taking Simon's hand wave as a sign that he had heard. He needed a drink after seeing that. There was no way he was going to be able to look at Isabelle the same now. Although no one wanted to admit it, Simon and Isabelle the most, those two had a lot more sexual tension than anyone Alec had ever met. Even more tension than Jace and Clary. They would sometimes want to hook up, and then they would start fighting; they were either on good terms, or bad terms. Seeing Isabelle with that stranger must be a slap in the face to Simon. How much of it was a show, albeit? Was Isabelle playing her game again, attempting to get Simon jealous by flaunting this new man right in front of him? Or was his sister so oblivious to the fact that she was hurting Simon by pursuing her own selfish desires?

Groaning, Alec put his face in his hands before Mark caught his attention again. Mark seemed to be intent on studying his watch as opposed to people-watching, like he had previously been. His mismatched eyes were narrowed, almost as if he were lost in thought. A brief part of Alec wondered where Mark and Helen got their white-blonde hair from: could they possibly be related to the Morgenstern’s? After all, it was no secret that Mark and Helen were not full-blooded Blackthorn’s. The Blackthorn’s were  _very_  lucky that Valentine allowed them into Morgenstern Corporation after it was revealed that their father had an affair. That’s where most of their wealth came from, and how Mark and Helen’s father were able to support every other kid he had. How many kids did they have again? It was hard to tell. Alec lost count after Julian was born.

“I think I’m just going to go back to the dorm,” Mark said abruptly. “I have class at seven in the morning tomorrow. I should not be up so late. Good night, Alec.”

"Good night. I’ll tell Helen where you’ve gone, if I can find her . . .” Alec's voice trailed off as he watched Mark stalk through the throngs of people, disappearing as soon as he reached the door. 

Ten minutes passed, and there was no sign of Simon nor his drink. Alec felt far too awkward and uncomfortable to continuously sit in one spot, watching as his friends got involved in things he wouldn’t ever dream of doing. Isabelle and that guy had disappeared, probably off to some bedroom in this frat house to bone. The very idea of someone touching his sister like that made Alec shudder; seeing the lusty expression in the mans dark eyes made him feel a bit more overprotective than he had felt in a long time. Isabelle could protect herself if she didn’t want to sleep with him. His sister was stronger than he could have ever anticipated. She would not be so quick to forgive him if he were to come in the middle of her and a suitor.

Searching the throngs of people for the familiar heads of Clary and Jace, Alec spotted a redhead, but she was way too tall to be Clary. Her hair was too dark, too; it looked bright underneath the combination of the neon lights, but it was more auburn when she moved closer towards Alec. There was still no sign of Jace, either. Where could they have gone? As soon as they had come in, they had snagged plastic red cups with some foul smelling liquid in it and had disappeared. Helen and Aline had even disappeared from Alec's line of sight, too. Where was everybody?

Feeling sulky, Alec got to his feet and headed towards the front door, glad there wasn’t too many people crowding around it. Trickles of people still came inside, laughing about how, and Alec quotes: “ _Magnus’ parties are lit as fuck_!” But for the most part, everyone had already arrived. When Alec and the others had first arrived, though, it seemed as if the party had been going on for hours. Almost everyone was drunk or getting close to it, and hundreds of people were already inside. Clary had murmured an apology for rushing Alec and Isabelle to be on time when there was no point to it, whereas Jace had been too eager to get as drunk as everyone else in the room. It seemed as if the whole campus attended the magical Magnus Bane’s party!

Speaking of which; where the fuck  _was_  Magnus Bane? Who the  _fuck_  was Magnus Bane? What the fuck did he look like? Did this man just love to shroud himself in mystery for the sake of all the new arrivals? His friends had been so interested in finding out who he was, but the man was nowhere to be found.

"You wanna hit?" Someone mumbled, pulling Alec out of his questioning thoughts. The guy was holding what looked like a joint out towards Alec as soon as he managed to step onto the stoop without tripping over the group of stoners. His sharp cyan gaze focused upon the males gloved hand, examining the thick gray smoke oozing from the lit end of it.

Hesitating, Alec shivered as the cool night air brushed over him, turning the warm sweat that previously donned the back of his neck cold. No longer hot, yet feeling pressured, he shrugged, knowing that he was probably going to regret this as soon as tonight was over. “Why not?” Usually, Alec had no interest in smoking nor drinking. He wasn’t a druggie, he was sure his father would really kill him if he were. But this was college. Everyone smoked pot in college. And if you say otherwise, there was a ninety percent chance that you were lying. 

Taking the joint, Alec raised it up to his lips and deeply inhaled the smoke, immediately clamping his teeth and lips shut. He could feel the smoke wreathing around inside of his mouth, and he wanted to cough, but he forced himself to continue holding it in. He was sure he looked hilarious: his face screwed up, eyes watering, lips folded in on themselves and smoke puffing out from his nostrils. Yet he had heard that the longer you held the smoke in, the better the high.

After he was sure he had held it in long enough, he exhaled, watching through his watery gaze as smoke pooled out from his mouth. He coughed as soon as he could properly breathe, shocked to see smoke still was left in his system. Spurts of it came out as he coughed, his breathing wheezy as he struggling to gain control again. His chest ached. Maybe it was a bad idea to have done that. Wasn’t he the king of bad ideas, though?

He had never smoked pot before. Was he going to become paranoid?  _Yikes_. Maybe he needed a drink to even things out . . .? He wished Jace were here to talk him through it. 

“Yo! You really know how to hold your smoke, dude. What’s your name?” The college student who had held the joint out to him asked, his voice seeming to ground Alec. With those words, Alec realized that he was fine. He wasn’t paranoid, and he didn’t need to rely on Jace for every little thing. He was  _fine_. The pot had done nothing. Either it was weak as shit, or Alec hadn’t inhaled enough to begin with. Whatever it was, he was glad. This was not the right time for him to be getting high. He needed to keep his wits about him so that he could gather his most-likely inebriated friends later on and drag their asses home.

Alec, both curiously and warily, examined the man. He was hiding greasy dirty brown hair with a gray beanie, and was huddled in an oversized jacket that seemed to hang off of his narrow frame. Though his gaze was hazy from the high, and he looked exhausted, his smile was bright and revealed yellowed teeth. Alec could smell the booze seeping out through his pores, and the rank stench of pot, but offered up his own smile nevertheless. This guy seemed friendly enough. He wasn’t too sure he wanted to become close with a pothead, but for now a friendly conversation was all he was looking for. Just a brief distraction from the party raging inside, and the annoyance at being abandoned by his friends.

“I’m Alexander Lightwood, but you can call me Alec.” He held out his hand for a formal handshake, and felt discomfort strike him as the pothead stared at his hand in confusion. Withdrawing his hand, he stuffed them both in his jean pockets, wishing that he had either dressed in a heavier sweater, or brought a jacket. Clary and Jace had rushed him out so quickly that he hadn’t gotten a chance to snag his favorite jacket. It was leather, and it was warm, adorned with the Lightwood family symbol on the back of it. Now that he thought about it, it wouldn’t be such a good idea to wear that around campus. It would be practically flaunting his wealth in the other students faces and it would bring him more attention than he wanted.

“‘M Eric,” Eric announced. He passed the joint to a girl with bright neon pink hair, narrowing his hazy eyes at Alec. “I’ve never seen you before. You're new here?” If he thought that Alec was automatically a douche for being a Lightwood, he didn’t comment.

“First year.” Alec answered. 

“Be wary of Magnus Bane,” Eric looked amused. “His parties get out of control. Come to think of it . . . I haven’t seen him nor Camille yet. Ain’t that strange? They usually make an appearance, or three, before going to go get high somewhere.” Someone screamed from the inside the frat house, and Alec winced. No one was concerned about whomever that was, so he tried to relax again, figuring that it was just some out of control girl.

Cautiously, Alec leaned forward. He had sat down on the stoop, leaning against the cold railing. His legs had grown exhausted; after hours of lugging the boxes around, he wanted to go home and ice his sore muscles whilst watching a few reruns of  _House_. Again, albeit, his curiosity got the best of him as he gazed at Eric. “Who is Camille?” He asked, her name rolling off of his lips sweetly.

The pink-haired girl piped up, admiration gleaming in her dark eyes. “Beautiful, intelligent, blonde vixen of a woman. All the men are in love with her, especially Raphael Santiago. She and Magnus are like . . . they’re a power couple. Beauty paired with beauty, also paired with über intelligence.”

Eric snorted. “Yeah, Magnus is very hot . . . For a dude, anyway.” He swept on, aware of how he sounded. “So is Camille. Both are gonna work at Morgenstern Corp. when they graduate,” he sniffed. “Magnus is gonna be some sort of traveling doctor for each Institute, I heard. Y’know, like go to foreign countries to try out a drug or whatever it is that Morgenstern commands of whatever Magnus is gonna be.”

Alec’s heart sank. He had to have known that Morgenstern was going to hand-pick their next employees from the college. Only the best got accepted from both high schools and colleges all over the world. Their students were the best of the best; anyone whom had been accepted into the college and didn’t have far above average grades were most likely there thanks to someone chatting up the dean, or had family money and funded the school. Alec had gotten very good grades in all of his classes. He had been valedictorian of his class of over six hundred students! Because his father wanted him to send out his applications immediately, he had sent one to Morgenstern University first, being accepted within the week, surprisingly enough. He knew that his father, as soon as he graduated, would demand that Alec come work at Morgenstern Corporation with him. There would be no need for him to send in an application thanks to his family name. How many others who had no ties in Morgenstern Corporation would get hand-picked from the college?

“I heard Doctors Without Borders for Morgenstern?” A different girl quipped, though her words were drunkenly slurred. She had purple streaks in her toffee colored hair, and was dangerously perched on the edge of the stoop with no railing to block her from falling. Alec wanted to reach out and pull her farther onto the stoop, keep her from losing her balance, but he knew that it wasn’t going to blow over well. She gave off a certain air that reminded him of Isabelle. If he were to help, he was sure that he was going to get snapped at.

“Camille is in line to be the next Institute leader somewhere out-of-country. I heard they were working on installing an Institute in France, so I think they wanna put her there. First leader who doesn’t have one of the big bad family names like this guy over here,” Eric jabbed a finger in Alec’s direction, and Alec flushed. “Morgenstern hand-picked her thanks to her leadership skills," he continued on with a rasping tone to his voice. “She and Magnus are top dogs here,” he swung his beer bottle up to his lips, taking a quick sip. “That beautiful bitch pisses me the fuck off.”

“Me too,” the pink-haired girl sighed wistfully. She offered the still-smoking joint to Alec, who politely turned it down. One hit was enough for him. “I wanna get with her so badly, but she’s _soooooo_ straight. I don’t even think she would look at me twice,” the girl folded her hands behind her head, leaning back against the step behind her. “Did anybody see where Raphael got to . . . ?”

The conversation between the three stoners drifted off into a topic that Alec wasn’t interested in. He felt far too much curiosity when it came to Camille and Magnus: what did those two look like? Where were they? Why didn’t they show up at the party Magnus himself had thrown? Were they more interested in being fashionably late, then socializing with their friends and classmates?

Murmuring a goodbye to Eric and a thank you for sharing the joint with him, Alec headed back inside. People had dispersed into clumps by now, heads bent together and wild laughter ripping through them. Someone upstairs howled out a laugh that sounded as clear as a bell downstairs. Music still pounded from hidden speakers, resonating in all of the rooms inside of the frat house. There were six floors to this damn place, each one was more intricate and . . . oddly decorated than the last. Multiple patterns were splashed across each piece of furniture and the walls, and the furniture itself? Well, it was definitely different. 

 _Bane; I know I’ve heard that last name before. Bane . . . Asmodeus Bane, maybe? Morgenstern Corporation’s head lawyer?_  The thought passed through his mind, and Alec banished it after a moment.  _Can't be. Asmodeus was never married, and he never had kids. It’s almost impossible,_  he shook his head, trying to stop thinking of it. There was no point on dwelling on anything. If it still bothered him over the weekend, he could aways ask his mother to find it out for him. She had her ways of discreetly finding out information and feeding it back to her kids.

Deciding to head directly to the bar for another drink, he ended up leaning against the counter, examining the bottles that were lined up on a shelf along the wall. He wanted something to drink, something to take his mind off of this stupid party and the anxiety gnawing a hollow hole in his stomach. A fuzzy buzz was something that would take his mind off of everything right now, and he could actually try to enjoy himself.

“What do yah want, sugah?” The bartender came sashaying over, batting her glittering eyelashes at him. She had a very heavy southern accent; it took Alec a moment to figure out what she had said. When his gaze automatically drifted down, he jerked it back up to look into her eyes. Her shirt was skintight: pushing her breasts up and giving them way more attention than Alec wanted to pay. She and Isabelle were more alike than he wanted to admit. “Everythin’ is on Magnus Bane tonight. No need t’ pay, sugah.” Her malachite gaze glimmered brightly, and her tone seemed to carry a hint of seduction with it. If he were straight, he might have been interested, but he was gay as fucking rainbows.

Alec awkwardly cleared his throat. “What looks good?” He had no fucking clue how to order a drink. He had never gone barhopping before, never gone out and spent all night drinking until he was so hungover that he wouldn’t be able to move from his room come morning. Isabelle had been that person, jumping around between at least ten bars at night, drinking until her liver was aching and her head throbbed something nasty. “I’m sick of beer.”

Her gaze narrowed in consideration. Alec saw the dark eyeliner, so similar to his sisters, and he frowned. It was smudged thanks to her sweating and having to run around serving drinks left and right. “For yah? I think I can whip up somethin’ special. Somethin’ t’ go with those eyes of yours,” she purred, whisking away to grab a glass and a few bottles from off the shelf behind her. 

Panic rose in Alec’s chest as she poured at least three different types of liquors into the glass, taking a small black straw and stirring it. Removing the straw, she put the bottles back on the shelf and dropped three ice cubs down in the mixed drink. The liquid seemed to merge into a clear gold as it settled, and as soon as she slid it down the bar to Alec, he caught a strong, sweet scent. That mixture would be enough to kill him! Was it not clear that he had little to no experience with holding his liquor?

“Thank you,” Alec managed to get out clearly, turning away from the bartender. He had the vague sense that she was flirting with him, but he had no interest in her. She was far from his type. To begin with, she didn’t have a dick. Though she was pretty: with long, curly blonde hair, bright malachite eyes, porcelain skin and a light dusting of freckles, she was overly flirty, and too ready to jump into something without even knowing the person. The bartender was for someone like Simon, and for someone like Jace. But not for Alec.

Speaking of Jace, the liquid in his glass looked to be the exact same tawny-gold color as his brothers eyes. His heart twisted as he thought of him, wondering where the fuck his friends had gotten off to. Mark was gone; Simon was gone; Aline and Helen were gone; Clary and Jace were gone; Isabelle was—

“Hey!” Alec gaped as someone bumped into him, making him lose his balance. Stumbling, Alec could only watch in horror as the glass tipped from his grasp, shattering on the hardwood flooring. Tawny-gold liquid went _everywhere_. Shocked, he whirled around to see whom was had bumped into him to begin with and preparing to rebuke him with several sharp words, immediately freezing at the sight before him.

This man, this . . . beautiful man stood behind Alec, his eyes wide with surprise. This man’s hair was wild; spiked up off of his face and glistening with whatever was keeping it up. His skin, tan and stretched taut over his sharp cheekbones, shone with a mixture of sweat and glitter.  _Glitter_. His eyes, dear God his  _eyes_  were not a normal color. Jace’s eyes were once a toffee brown, and thanks to all the time he had spent in the sun, they had become a tawny-gold. This stranger seemed to have naturally golden eyes, with pupils that were slightly slitted, almost like a cats. Bright golden eyeliner stretched across his top eyelids, and black eyeliner adorned his bottom lids. His lips were stretched into a wide, bright smile, his pearly whites straight and shining in the flashing lights. Alec’s gaze dropped down involuntarily to the mans attire. It was a bright outfit: a pastel blue vest with a glimmering long-sleeved golden-and-black mesh shirt underneath. The hard planes of his chest and abdomen were obvious through the mesh. Leather pants hugged his bottom half in all the right places, really enunciating the curve of his bottom. Platform knee-high boots gave him a few more inches over Alec, and for the first time in his life, he felt intimidated by someone so beautiful.

“Are you okay?” Whomever this fucking hottie was, he spoke was a strange lilt that Alec couldn’t even begin to place. His eyes were just so mesmerizing, and Alec felt as if his tongue had swelled three sizes, and as if his face were on fire. Did he light on fire? Light him on fire please, because oh no he is  _so_ attracted to this man already.

“I-I’m fine,” Alec stammered.  _And you're fine as fuck._ He hoped whomever this was hadn’t noticed Alec’s clumsy, obvious, awkward way of checking him out.

The other mans unique gaze strayed to the broken glass and the liquid seeping across the floor, tutting with his lips pursed. “Such a shame, I’m going to have to pay extra for that glass when it’s not returned to Mira. I bet that they’re gonna charge me extra for the wasted booze, too,” the man murmured almost half to himself. “I’m Magnus Bane, and you are? I suppose the polite thing to do is offer to get you another drink.” 

 _This_  was Magnus Bane? Oh lord, oh lord, oh  _God_ , Alec was not in any way shape or form disappointed. When Eric and the others had been talking about how hot he and Camille were, they hadn’t been joking. Alec’s throat began to close as he struggled to think of an appropriate response that was not along the lines of: “ _Please fuck me into the nearest mattress._ ” Clearing his throat, Alec pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling the heat that radiated off of his skin. “Alec, I’m Alec.” He prayed that he didn’t sound like an idiot.

“Not Alec Lightwood, I hope?” Magnus sounded amused. _Ouch_. “I had hoped that I would be out of Morgenstern before the Lightwood’s came. I heard that Isabelle is a real handful.”

“No, not a Lightwood.” He had no idea why he lied. The words just rolled right off of his tongue before he could stop them. Alec was suddenly glad he had been unable to bring his jacket after all. A part of him wanted to be offended at the way Magnus had subtly insulted his sister, but he couldn’t find the words to stick up for her. To add insult to injury, Alec kept digging himself into the grave he had neatly dug with that first lie. “They're stuck up snobs, aren’t they?”

“The entire Morgenstern  _company_  is filled with stuck up snobs!” Magnus threw his head back, his lips peeled back into a brilliant laugh. Alec’s heart beat faster. “I hate to be that guy, but I am really going to resent it once I begin to work there.” Signaling to the bartender, whom was apparently named Mira, Alec watched as she looked at both of them in surprise. After a moment, she turned to go pour the drinks. She obviously knew Magnus’ order well, for she didn’t need to ask what he wanted. “My father works there. He thinks he’s so high and mighty. I can’t stand him half the time. He preaches on and on about how Morgenstern Corporation is going to save this world from perdition.” Magnus was saying as Alec focused his attention back onto him, a sarcastic edge lining his voice. Alec felt the same way about his own father, but he didn’t put his thoughts into words.

Instead, Alec couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from his lips. “I’ve heard that they haven’t made any money in  _years_! They’re going broke, I assume. I  _hope_.” Could someone just come and punch him in the fucking face before he said something he couldn't take back? Where was Jace-The-Asshole when you really needed him?

“Not if my father has anything to do with it,” Magnus sighed wistfully. He leaned against the bar, his elbow resting against the wood and palm cupping his sharp jaw. Alec was surprised that the sharpness of Magnus’ jaw didn’t cut his palm. “He’ll get them out of every predicament. ‘ _Can’t go broke, Magnus!_ ’ He’d say. It’s not all about the money; I mean . . . I kinda need the money that he makes to pay for all of this. My charm isn’t enough to win that bartender over this time.” Flashing a bright smile over at Mira, Magnus snagged the two glasses, holding one out towards Alec. “Repayment for the drink I ruined?” He offered, and Alec was finding it  _really_ hard turning him down.

Accepting the drink, Alec had to hold back a wince as his fingers touched Magnus’. It felt as if he were plunged into cold water; shocked by the intensity of the desire that rose inside of him. His entire body felt extraordinarily cold; goosebumps rising on his arms and a chill running up his spine. He had to get out of here. He  _had_  to get out of here before he did something so stupid, and dug that damn grave even farther. “Where’s the bathroom?” Alec blurted, clumsily setting his drink down on the counter.

“Through that door,” Magnus answered, pointing one jeweled finger towards an oak door with a strange symbol on it. Concern appeared in his unique, beautiful eyes. “Are you o—”

Refusing to give Magnus a chance to answer, Alec hurried towards the door, quickly locking it behind him once he was sure that it had shut. Thankfully, there had been few people in his way so he had been able to escape that hot bastard before things got awkward, or before he tried to follow. Leaning against the door, Alec hastily turned on the lights, feeling his stomach begin to roil and heave. Bile rose in his throat as he fell beside the toilet, fingernails gripping the seat as he dry heaved into the bowl. He hadn’t eaten in hours; it was no surprise that nothing came up. Still, the dry heaving was enough to leave him weak. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the bowl, and Alec didn’t have the energy nor strength to prop himself up anymore. Exhausted, he moved so that he was sitting with his head between his knees, eyes half-shut, watching as saliva dripped from his parted lips onto the tile floor. This was all too much; the noise, the drinking, the pot, the people — he wasn’t equipped for  _any_  of this. What he presumed was also making him sick was the fact that he felt like Magnus was onto him about the tiny, white  _I’m-not-a-Lightwood_ lie. Anxiety had not been his friend in the past, and it was not his friend now.

Stumbling to his feet after flushing the toilet, Alec gripped the sink as he turned the cold water on, hardly giving it a moment to run before he was splashing it over his face. Scrubbing the pads of his fingers across his jaw, Alec frowned at his reflection. He did look exhausted, that much was true. He longed to go back out there, flirt with Magnus  _fucking_  Bane some more, and then go hide in his dorm for the rest of the semester. He was sure that he didn’t have the gall for it. What he needed now was to eat something before he passed out, not to flirt. Suppose he could go searching around the bar for a quick meal, or something to snack on? When he finally got a bite to eat, he could think on how to handle this strange situation. Maybe even convince himself that Magnus Bane was indeed not flirting with him, but being friendly.

“Anyone in there?” A familiar voice called through the door, and rage flared inside of Alec, lending him strength that he did currently need.

Whirling around, Alec undid the lock and ripped open the door, his upper lip curling in rage. “Where the  _fuck_  have you been?” He snapped, knowing that he must look absolutely ridiculous with his dripping face. “I sat around all night waiting for you to show back up. Why did you leave?”

Jace was staring innocently at Alec, and Alec could tell by the way his brother was swaying that Jace was drunk off his ass. “I never left your side this whole night,” he said slowly, then smugly grinned. “I drank a  _lot_.”

“I can see that,” Alec muttered. “You’re a fucking ass, making me deal with you when you caused all this.” Dragging Jace towards the tub, Alec shoved his brother onto the floor, forcing Jace to kneel on the tile. His brother slumped limply against the ledge of the tub, and gave Alec a weak thumbs up. Making sure that Jace wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, Alec stalked towards the door and shut it again, his exhaustion and weakness forgotten as he locked it. Turning the water on, Alec turned it to cold, waiting until it felt like ice upon his skin before shoving Jace’s head roughly under the faucet.

For a moment, Jace remained still in Alec’s grasp before he thrashed. Hitting his head against the ledge of the tub, Jace yelped as he scrambled away from Alec. He wasn’t able to go far, he ran right into the toilet, cursing angrily. “What the  _fuck_ , Alec?”

“You were drunk off your ass, I sobered you up.” Alec sniffed, turning the faucet off and getting to his feet. “Where have you been all night?” He demanded, running a hand through his damp hair. “Why did you just up and leave me alone?”

“Because Clary and I had . . . other plans,” Jace managed to get out as he clambered to his feet, bending over and running his hands through his hair. As he shook his head, sending droplets cascading to the tile, he spoke again. “ _Thanks_. I’m soaking wet, pissed off, and still drunk thanks to my big brother. Now, I think I’m gonna go collect Clary, and head back to the dorm.” His bright eyes were beginning to clear, less hazy than two minutes prior. Though he sounded annoyed, Alec could tell that he was joking. “Are you gonna come? This party was a bit too much for all of us, I think.”

“What d—” Alec broke off, hanging his head. “I  _can’t_. I left Magnus Bane hanging in the middle of a conversation,” he groaned, pressing his palm to his forehead. “I’ll meet you back at the dorm, provided that I can find my way back.”

Jace, who looked momentarily annoyed, just shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself. I’ll see if I can find Sheldon and Isabelle while I’m at it.”

“ _Simon_ ,” 

“Whatever.”

Undoing the lock and pulling open the door, Alec made sure that Jace slipped into the throng of people okay before turning off the lights, immediately heading back to the bar. He could see Magnus’ pastel vest from where he was standing, but his heart sank as he spotted a woman standing in front of him. They were holding hands, and as Alec watched, he saw Magnus raise her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. 

 _That must be Camille._ He thought, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip.

Stumbling towards his drink, Alec leaned against the bar, winded as he took a sip. The taste of it stung the back of his throat, and made his eyes water, but he forced himself to drink anyway. He drank the entire glass in one go, hearing it thump on the counter as he set it down a little too hardly. As soon as the glass made the noise, Magnus turned to look at him, those startling eyes bright with excitement, his grin being the one thing that made Alec’s heart ache. Already, he felt such a strong attachment to Magnus; why would it bother him that Magnus was acting like a boyfriend should towards their girlfriend? 

“Alec! I want you to meet Camille Belcourt, my girlfriend.” Magnus drew Camille closer, whom offered Alec a beautiful, perfect smile.

Camille was just as beautiful as Alec had heard. Her hair was platinum blonde and long, falling down to her waist in wavy, shining locks. It shone like gems in the neon lights, and Alec had to resist the urge to reach out and touch it. It looked so soft, so fluffy. Her eyes, on the other hand, were as pale green as they came. For a moment, he felt daunted by her gaze. She seemed to be staring into him, examining every portion of him with a few quick jerks of her head. Her cheekbones were so sharp, her features so defined, everything about her was just  _perfect_. And she was with the most perfect man on Earth, and they . . . fit well together.

“Alec, is it? It's nice to meet you,” Camille purred. She held her hand out to be shaken, and Alec firmly clasped her hand, retaining eye contact as they firmly shook. “Magnus tells me that you’re  _not_  a Lightwood?” Her eyes said that she didn’t believe him.

Flushing, he shook his head. “No, I'm not.” _Boy, they’re gonna really hate me when they find out that I_ am _a Lightwood,_  he thought, ordering another drink. Magnus looked on with satisfaction, and Alec thought that he could detect a bit of worry in those cat-like eyes, but he brushed it away. Why would Magnus be worried about  _him_? “How long have you and Magnus been together?” He forced himself to sound bright and interested.

“Oh, six years now?” Magnus asked, looking over at Camille with a slight frown. She shrugged and then nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer. 

“Around six years now, yes, I think that’s right.” She pressed her lips to Magnus' temple, and then drained what was left in her cup. “I’ve got an exam early tomorrow morning,” she murmured, “I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” Magnus stole a quick kiss before she went sauntering off, dropping a friendly wave and a goodbye towards Alec. Both men watched her go, Magnus murmuring something unintelligible underneath his breath. Turning back to Alec, his gaze bright again, he spoke. “So! Where did you disappear off to so fast, and why?”

“The bathroom. My brother showed up and I had to sober him up. Like always, this isn’t the first time that asshole has done that to me before.” Alec answered, aware of how sharp his voice sounded. Wanting to hit his head off the counter, he accepted the drink that Mira handed him, and got himself under control again. “He and his girlfriend went back to the dorm.”

Magnus looked interested. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Well, one of my brothers is adopted. And I have two other full-blooded siblings; a younger sister, and an even younger brother,” Alec was careful to leave out their names. “They didn’t want to go to college alone, so I held off on going until the older two both graduated and we could all go together.” He took a sip of the drink, ignoring the burning in the back of his throat again. Was he ever going to get used to it? “We’re all going to go through it together. How about you, though, do you have any siblings?”

“No, I actually don’t,” Magnus confessed. “Only child here! My mother . . . Well, she hung herself when I was four, and my step-father kicked me out of the house because he blamed me. My real father, the bastard that he is, was forced to take me in or else he would look bad in the eyes of Morgenstern. I don’t know if he had any other kids with any other women, and I don’t really care. I practically had to raise myself.” He said this very matter-of-factly. Pity rose within Alec, and he brushed it away. That’s all people probably did to Magnus when they heard this story, pitied him for things that he couldn’t control.

“I’m so sorry,” Alec felt even worse now than he did before. He here stood, the privileged child who has had everything at his fingertips since birth, and he was taking it all for granted. He was lying about who he was, trying to come onto a taken man, and he had the audacity to feel jealous over the way Magnus and Camille acted! He had no right. Coming to Morgenstern had been a mistake. He should have just gone to college in Hartford, just as he had originally planned! Why did life want to screw him over so badly?

Magnus shrugged, looking unconcerned. His long fingers were tracing the rim of his glass, and his gaze was heavy-lidded. Truly, this flashy man looked like a cat — ready to pounce upon his prey. “It’s never bothered me. What are your parents like?” He changed the subject with ease. 

One question led to another. And another. And another. With each question he answered, Alec was rewarded with a new drink. And when he was rewarded with a new drink, a fuzzy feeling spread inside of him, starting from his chest and reaching all the way to the tips of his fingers and his toes. Always, Alec was acutely aware of Magnus’ gaze never leaving his. As the night went on, and the questions got more and more personal, and as Alec and Magnus got drunker and drunker, there came to be less and less space in between them. All of the issues Alec had earlier were forgotten as he allowed himself to get lost in Magnus Bane and their wondrous conversation. 

Midnight came and went.  
One a.m. came and went.  
Two a.m. came and went.

By three, the party had died down to a few people passed out on the floor, the couches, and even on the bar. Magnus and Alec were still going strong; close enough to smell the tangy scent of the booze they were drinking on each others breath, and to be sharing body heat. Alec knew he wasn’t going to be able to make it home to the dorm tonight. He was far too drunk to make it back there safely. If anything, he would end up passing out on the sidewalk and cut his face up. That was  _not_  the first impression he wanted to make on Morgenstern.

“Can I stasy at your place,” Alec blurted the question out, laughing at his own vocal mistake.

Magnus, whom had been looking very serious the moment before, suddenly burst out into a wheezing laughter. “You said ‘ _stasy_ ’,” he leaned his forehead against Alec’s arm for a moment, before he nodded. Shocks were running up Alec’s arm from the touch. “Sure, you can stasy. Lemme help you upstairs.”

The two men somehow managed to stumble all the way to the top floor safely. Magnus was subtly limping as he led the way to a room, opening the door with his shoulder as opposed to his hands. “This is the guest room,” he mumbled, sweeping his arm towards the dark room. ". . . Oops; I forgot to turn the lights on,” he whispered, unable to hide the giggles that peeled from his lips. 

Alec, a bit more serious than his companion, flipped on the lights. With a contented expression, he sighed wistfully, heading further into the room. The clearer air and the quiet seemed to sober him up. He felt more at ease in this room with Magnus than he had downstairs. His exhausted gaze spotted two open windows, and for once, the night air felt refreshing instead of unnerving. Though he still felt like falling over, and he knew he probably reeked of booze, he didn’t feel as if his night with Magnus was going to end. Something seemed to tell him that it was  _far_  from over.

“You have really pretty eyes.” Magnus stated very clearly, no drunken slur in his voice. “They’re so blue . . .”

The anticipation that had been almost swallowing Alec whole the entire time since he had met Magnus finally dispersed. He would never know whom kissed whom first, or whom pushed away first, but he didn’t really care. In that moment after he had received that compliment, all he had wanted was to feel Magnus’ lips upon his own, taste Magnus’ skin, and his mouth, be one with him. In that brief confusing moment, they both had tripped over themselves in a desperate attempt to get to the bed. Magnus’ pastel blue vest was half off, his mesh shirt torn by Alec’s fingers, and Alec’s jeans were unbuttoned and half-way unzipped when they both stopped, breathing heavily, quickly coming to their senses.

“Camille,” Alec whispered hoarsely, shying away when Magnus tried to silence him with a kiss. “ _Camille_.” As much as he already disliked her, he didn’t want to make an enemy of her by sleeping with her fucking boyfriend. Alec wasn’t that person. He had _never_ been that guy, and yet, tonight, he was ignoring all of his morals simply because he had met the infamous Magnus Bane. 

And he was missing an amazing opportunity to get laid.

Magnus’ golden gaze were gazing into his own, bright and lustful. Unspoken words seemed to filter between them.  _It’s all you; it’s all on you_ , Magnus seemed to say, and Alec wanted to wail aloud at his own stupidity. He hadn’t even wanted to come to this party tonight, and look what it had led to! So badly, he wanted to fall into bed with Magnus and forget about the rest of the world, but the sober side of him told him that he’d be making a huge mistake.

Whilst he was having an internal debate, kicking the hell out of himself mentally, Magnus was trailing kisses from Alec’s jaw down to his collarbone. Every so often he’d nip Alec’s pale skin, making the Lightwood boy shudder. God, he wanted it. He  _wanted_  Magnus.

His own shaking fingers caught Magnus’ jaw, bringing the others face closer to his. Before he could talk himself out of it all over again, Alec crushed their lips together, feeling Magnus stiffen before relaxing. Magnus’ tongue traced along the outside of his lips, and Alec moaned, parting his lips to grant Magnus entrance. His still-shaking fingers yanked the vest off all the way, momentarily breaking the kiss. His pants were becoming more than uncomfortable thanks to his hardening member, and he wanted  _relief_. It seems Magnus was one step ahead of him in that aspect, for he had Alec’s pants on the floor, and his own, within a matter of moments. 

Sparks flashed behind Alec’s closed eyelids as Magnus pushed his hips into Alec’s, and Alec pushed back, the friction being something that he craved. He gasped when Magnus’ warm hand slid down the front of his boxers, his face heating up considerably when he remembered that this was going to be his first time. Sure, he’d jerked off enough at the Institute like any other teenage boy, but he’d never fallen into bed with any man. No one had piqued his interest until now. No one managed to get Alec all bothered and flustered like  _Magnus_  did.

So when Magnus nipped Alec’s neck again, absolutely breathless and sliding his hand inside of Alec’s boxers, the Lightwood realized that they both were definitely going to hell tonight. 


	3. the morning after.

_‘Forty-five new voicemails. No saved voicemails. Six new messages from_ Clary _. Twenty-seven new messages from_ Izzy _. Eleven new messages from_ The Asshole _. One new message from_ Mom _. Press_ **two** _to play back all voice messages. Press_ **nine** _to exit.’_

Alec groaned, scrubbing a hand across his partially scruffy face. Deciding to opt out of listening to his friends bitch about where he’s been, he pressed nine to exit the app. He would listen to them bitch about how irresponsible and how much of a hypocrite he was later. Alec tossed the phone down onto the marble counter, pressing his pointer fingers against his temples. The battery bar flashed, showing that his battery needed to be charged or else his phone would shut off. He didn’t have the energy to get up and plug his phone in. What in the world did his mother call him for? Did Isabelle call her to tell her that Alec was missing? He hoped that his sister had had the sense to keep her mouth shut about the entire situation. It would not do him well to have his parents find out about his reckless one-night stand with  _Magnus fucking Bane_.

Just eight hours prior, he had managed to stumble into his dorm room, his ass aching something awful and the entire room dangerously spinning. He had distantly heard Isabelle yelling at him, calling him reckless and stupid. “ _How fucking dare you stay out all fucking night and not say anything? How dare you not text, or call, after giving Jace and the others hell? You reckless asshole!_ ” He was sure that she had even smacked him, but, he was so exhausted that he had collapsed on his bed and was out like a damn light.

Once Isabelle realized that she was fighting a losing battle, she had made her brother more comfortable; tucking him into bed, adjusting his pillows, turning out the lights, and making sure that he was really out before leaving him to sleep. There were no windows in his dorm room, so as soon as the door was shut and all the lights were off, Alec could sleep away the worst of his hangover and start the recovery process. The only problem was that he missed his first classes. Everyone else, whom were partially hungover, had to attend whilst Alec slept.

Great. He was going to have a hard time catching back up come tomorrow.

Around one o’clock, the door leading to his room had opened. In order to wake him up and get him functioning again, Helen had tossed a basketball at him, bouncing it perfectly on the crown of his head. She was a sporty girl, she always had a lot of interest in basketball, softball and volleyball. But the bouncing feeling on his head had made Alec instantly wake up, jack-knifing into a sitting position and gasping in surprise. His heart was pounding so hard that his chest hurt. “The fuck was that for?” He gaped at the Russian girl, growing angrier at the amused expression on her face. “Helen, that _hurt_!” Was he pouting? Yes. He was hungover so he was going to pout.

Helen was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over her slender chest. Her wavy white-blonde hair was tucked back into a loose bun, stray, slightly curled strands clouding around her sharp face. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they were this odd mixture between blue and gold. Albeit a little strange, he always found them interesting. Today, she was wearing simple clothes. Between Isabelle’s attire and Helen’s attire, he preferred Helen’s entirely. She was more of a conservative type of dresser; never wearing the elaborate things that Isabelle often dressed in. Today, Helen wore flat, tan boots that rose mid-way to her shins, skinny light blue jeans, and a white blouse with a ruffled neckline. She had a floral scarf with a mixture of pinks, greens and yellows as colors wrapped around her neck, with beaded tassels hanging off of the ends. Helen looked a lot like Andrew — her father — and again the question rose to the front of Alec’s mind: _Who is her and Mark’s mother?_ “It is time to wake up,” she purred, her voice heavily lilted. “It is one o’clock, and no one is happy with you today. Though, I can assume that you are not happy with yourself . . .” A wry grin pulled up her lips.

That brought him to now.

Pulling the ice pack that had long since gone warm off of his forehead, Alec tossed it towards his sister, who sent a dirty look his way.

“Don’t vomit here,” Isabelle warned, reaching into the freezer and handing him another one. She put the other back in the freezer to freeze all over again. “How does your bottom feel? I bet sitting on that stool doesn’t feel too good,” she teased, leaning forward and flicking his forehead. 

“Shut your damn face,” Alec growled, leaning his head down on his folded arms. The icepack was trapped between his arms and his forehead, sending a icy feeling throughout his skin.

To make matters worse, Jace sauntered into the room. His hair was damp, and he smelled of fresh soap. Maryse made her own body soap in her free time with some essential oils she had gotten into, and sent each of her children off with at least four bars of soap each. Alec could smell the sharp tang of lavender, and made a note not to comment on it so he didn’t make his hangover worse. If he said something, Jace would be sure to punch him in the face, and continuously give him hell for the rest of the day. He didn’t need that type of stress _now_ , when he felt like he had been hit by a freight train.

His brothers footsteps sounded too loud as he bounced around the kitchen, greeting Isabelle with a happy expression. Purposely ripping open the fridge, and sending everything inside rattling, Jace grabbed a water. Each sound sounded _so fucking loud_ in Alec’s ears.

“Good morning, Izzy! G — oh my god, Alec,” mock concern suddenly darkened his tone. Even though Alec couldn't see him, he was sure the fucker was grinning. “Your neck looks like it’s been attacked by a hummingbird!”

“It’s called a _woodpecker_ , dumbass.” Alec snapped, wincing at how loud he sounded. He pressed his forehead further into the icepack.

“Someone’s wood was attacked last night, and I’m guessing it was yours.” Even Jace was now teasing him. _Great_. 

Again, Alec groaned. “I’m going to kill all of you.” He sat up this time, his exhausted gaze meeting with Jace’s. The icepack fell onto the counter with a soft _plop_.

He had spent a majority of his night in Magnus’ bed, doing many dirty things that he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed of. What the hell, right? It’s not everyday you sleep with Magnus Bane and get away with it! Actually, he had no idea if he had gotten away with it. Had anyone seen them? Did Magnus tell Camille? Was Alec going to have an angry crowd of university students at his outside his dorm, yelling at him for his incredibly drunken mistake?

The question is: how did he carry on like usual? At this point, Alec was incredibly sure he was in love with Magnus. Just spending one night with him had been enough to make Alec doubt almost everything he had ever known and learned. His parents didn’t have a happy marriage, and he hadn’t truly known what love was like for he had never taken it upon himself to experiment and indulge his desires. Maryse and Robert argued a lot when all of the kids were still young. Never in front of the children, but Alec wasn’t stupid. He knew what their tells were; he knew when they were pissed at each other, and when they couldn’t stand being in each others presence. So this — whatever this was — he would just have to figure out a way to ride it out without getting himself permanently scarred.

Alec’s heart ( _and another part of him_ ) throbbed painfully every time the stupid Indonesian frat boy crossed his mind. And every single time, Alec reprimanded himself because of two reasons:

One, Magnus was with Camille.  
Two, _Magnus was with Camille._

Now, Alexander Gideon Lightwood was absolutely and utterly gay, and so far back in the fucking closet that he was in goddamn Narnia. He had been in love with Jace’s stupid beautiful fucking face for the past, what, nine years? And boy, he’s never had a boyfriend, or any type of significant other before! He’s never done anything that has required intimate contact, nor had he even attempted to pursue his ‘sinful’ life style. Whatever he felt for Magnus had to be simple infatuation; an obsession over his first successful fuck, and nothing more. It couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be anything serious. Nope. _Nothing_. It was just a simple one-night stand that Alec was currently paying for with the worst hangover in the entire history of the whole damn world.

“Guys, I’m in so much trouble.” Was all he could think to say as he leaned forward again, allowing his forehead to meet hardly with the marble counter. Pain radiated through his forehead, and he moved to press the ice pack between himself and the counter in order to give him some support. His arms hung limply at his sides. “What do I _do_?”

Isabelle slid onto the stool beside him, her firm hand rubbing his shoulder. She worked at a particular knot that had been bothering him for a few weeks, her thin fingers sending waves of discomfort and relief through him. “Well, what you do is you pretend that it never happened. Go to class, do your normal schedule, don’t do a single thing out of the ordinary. Maybe even forget that Magnus Bane ever existed. In this situation, that’s all you really _can_  do.” He leaned his shoulder further into her grip, feeling comforted by his sister being by him. Even though he could do without her relentless teasing, she was his _sister_. No matter what she did, or how they acted around each other, Alec would love her regardless. 

Jace, who now sounded worried, spoke. “Seriously, Alec; you had us all in a panic this morning. We were ready to call the damn cops! I thought you were going to be right behind us when we left.”

“I got caught up in talking,” he mumbled. “Talking that did lead to fucking.” Raising his head, Alec pressed his fingers against the red mark on his forehead, chancing a look over at his sister. Isabelle’s head was turned, revealing the white column of her neck. And not only that: there were scattered bruises across her skin that clearly screamed; “ _I got laid last night._ ” Pointing an accusing finger at his sister, Alec narrowed his eyes, his hangover temporarily forgotten. “Who was that man you were with last night?” The memory of her all over him flooded back into his brain.

Isabelle flushed. “You won’t like the answer,” she warned.

“Tell me,” Alec spat out through gritted teeth, and even Jace stared to look interested. His sharp gaze spotted Simon edging into the room, Clary and Helen on their trail. There was no sign of Mark or Aline yet. They had to still be in class. But the other three seemed to sense the tension that lay thickly in the kitchen. None of them spoke, and Alec wasn’t sure if Jace and Isabelle were aware that they were there.

His sister paused, seemingly bashful, like she were uncertain if she wanted to speak. But after a nudge from Jace, she made up her mind. “Sebastian Verlac. I was with Sebastian Verlac last night.”

“ _What_?!” Simon, Alec, Clary, and Jace all asked at the same time. Whirling around to gauge Simon’s reaction, Alec noticed the other teens hands curling into fists. 

“You slept with _Sebastian_?” Simon sounded hurt as he drew closer to Isabelle. “You won’t give _me_ a second chance, but you’ll sleep with _Sebastian_? I see where we stand, then.” He looked and sounded bitter. Alec had the temptation to reach out and touch Simon’s shoulder, but he had the feeling that it wouldn’t blow over well.

Isabelle swiveled on the stool, her dark eyes flashing with pain. “No, Simon, it wasn’t like that—” She protested, but Simon cut her off. 

“Isn’t it always like that, Iz?” He hung his head. “Whatever. It doesn’t even matter.”

“Simon—” Clary tried, reaching out for her retreating friend, but Simon shrugged her off. Clary withdrew her hand, looking hurt.

“I’m just going to go watch some Marvel movies. I don’t have class again until four.” Simon muttered, slinking off towards his room.

Alec piped up, suddenly ready to change the conversation. He felt bad for bringing it up to begin with. “We have Miss Herondale together, right?”

“We all do.” Helen confirmed in her sweet voice. “That is one class the eight of us do share.” She sat down in the stool beside Alec, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should take a shower before it is time to go,” she murmured, “you reek of booze and sweat, even a little bit of shame.”

Shaking his head, and patting Helen’s shoulder, he laughed. “I bet I do.”

For a while, the conversation was lighthearted and happy. Clary had sat on the last stool, and Mark and Aline arrived from their one o’clock Introduction to Technology class. During that span of time, Alec could forget about what had happened that previous night. There was no talk of sleeping with anyone, just talk of classes and how they went. Distantly, they all could hear the sounds of Simon’s movies, and Alec was struck by how much Simon still loved his sister. Isabelle had to be as blind as a damn bat if she was going to let Simon slip through her fingers like that; if she didn't wise up soon, she was going to end up losing his affections. Clary kept looking over at where Simon’s room was, her gaze filled with longing. 

“It’s three-thirty,” Aline quipped. “If you’re going to be ready by four, Alec, you should get a move on.”

“You just want my seat,” Alec teased, but got to his feet regardless. Pain shot through him, and his grip on the countertop tightened. Gesturing towards his phone, he looked at his sister. “Mind plugging my phone in, Isabelle? It was on a low percent last time I checked. I would actually like to use it at some point today.”

“Yeah, of course.” She leaned across the counter to grab it, plugging it into the charger that already was in the outlet. The screen lit up, and Alec could see that he had text messages. From this distance he couldn’t see the contact names, but he presumed that they were from his mother.

Jace stretched, his long arms reaching over his head. “I’m gonna go pick up coffee and snacks from Starbucks. Anybody got any requests?”

Partially limping back into his room, Alec shut and locked the door behind him. His head was aching; he would love nothing more than to curl back up in his bed and sleep the rest of the day away, but he had an obligation to his teachers and his parents. Supposedly, Amatis Herondale ( _neé Graymark_ ) had been in the Circle once upon a time. If Alec knew an ex-Circle member, they would be determined to make sure that all children whom had parents involved in the organization would receive the best grades from their own hard work and their own intelligence. If he didn’t show, Alec was absolutely positive that Amatis would go whispering in Robert’s ear. Not even a day later, Alec was sure that he would get a phone call from his father and be subjected to his father’s anger.

Hopefully none of the faculty saw him with Magnus, and knew that Robert did not approve of his son being with another man. _Hopefully_ no one saw anything that went on between himself and Magnus. 

For the most part, it was sad. Sad because Alec had to hide everything he did, make sure that everything he did was perfect, and be the image of the Lightwood family line. “ _It all rests on your shoulders,_ ” Robert had once told Alec when he was a young boy. “ _You are the eldest, which means you are the one who will one day lead this Institute. You are the Lightwood image. You are our_ future _._ ” It was a lot of pressure to put on a young boys shoulders. Too much pressure. Always, Alec had believed that he had to be absolutely perfect to gain his father affections. He _still_ believed as such.

He wanted to be perfect in his fathers eyes now. He wanted his father to be proud of him, and be happy for him, but there was nothing that he ever did that made his father proud. Everything he did seemed to annoy Robert more than it pleased him. When Alec had told Robert that he was valedictorian of his class of six hundred, his father had laughed at him: saying that he wouldn’t be able to deliver a good speech when it came time for his graduation. Maryse had snapped at Robert, telling Alec that he was going to do just fine. When Robert found out that Alec got the highest marks in all of his classes, he had been slightly pleased. It didn’t last long, for when Jace came home with his own marks, they cast Alec’s in a very dark Jace-sized shadow.

Stripping off his clothes, Alec picked up the clothes he had crumpled up in the corner the previous night. Folding them neatly, he set them down on his disheveled bed, then rooted around in his suitcase for one of his towels. Wrapping it around his waist, he set the lights to dim to help ease his headache, and slid into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him. Though he really had no choice with the lights being bright in the bathroom, Alec endured it to the best of his ability. He had neglected to keep hydrated, or even eat anything, which aided even more to how worse his hangover was. He was lucky that he wasn’t vomiting. He couldn’t even _imagine_ how much worse he would feel if he were blowing chunks every few minutes.

Running the water and turning it to warm, Alec wanted a moment before sliding into the shower. His muscles ached as he pulled the door shut, but he endured simply for the sake of wanting to be clean. He took his time with washing his hair, and scrubbing his body, taking care to examine each and every unusual mark that was on his pale skin. Magnus sure did like to make a mess of things. There were hickeys all over Alec’s inner thighs, his abdomen, his hips, and his chest. They only hurt if Alec were to press directly down on them, but otherwise they didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he liked the way they looked and the way they felt.

After he got out of the shower, Alec wrapped the towel tightly around his waist, using a hand towel to clear a space in the fogged up mirror to get a better look at himself. Stretching his head to the left, he followed the line of bites across his collarbone with his gaze, his teeth clamping together as the fuzzy memory passed through his mind. One thing he had to give Magnus credit for was the fact that he had been careful; all of the hickeys had been placed in spaces that could easily be covered up, with a bit of work of course.

Gingerly picking through the clothes he had in his suitcase, Alec slid into a pair of torn jeans and a simple white shirt, donning his Lightwood letterman jacket over it. Flicking the collar up was not enough to hide the marks Magnus had left, so he grabbed a scarf he had, using his floor-length mirror stylishly wrap it around his neck. It was a sofft gray color, very bland and was sure to not catch anyone’s attention. What the scarf didn't hide, Alec’s hair would when it finally dried. Once he brushed his hair, brushed his teeth, put on deodorant, and put on his shoes like a normal dude, Alec made sure that all the lights in his room and bathroom were off before heading back out to the kitchen.

“You look a lot better,” Isabelle complimented. She had put on some makeup whilst Alec was gone, and thrown her hair into a tight ponytail. A jolt ran through Alec when he realized how much she looked like Maryse. No stray strands of hair escaped her ponytail, and the Lightwood pendant rested upon her chest, reflecting the bright sunlight that streamed in through the windows. Her lips were even pressed into the same line that Maryse’s usually were in. “Here, I asked Jace to get you your favorite. I figured you might want something to drink, with a bit of caffeine of course. Water can come later.” She held out a Starbuck’s to-go cup towards him, and Alec gratefully accepted it.

“Thanks.” Taking a sip, his mouth exploded with the familiar tang of coldbrew coffee mixed with hazelnut. Jace had actually gotten it right this time, too; one cream and two sugars. Jace was usually keen on messing it up, or he genuinely forgot. Alec was sure that it was the latter, but any attempt to ask Jace ended with him getting a vague and unconvincing answer. At least his brother was looking out for him now, helping him _try_ to recover.

A hand smacked against the back of his tender head, and ruffled his long hair. Pain seemed to vibrate throughout his entire skull, and Alec hissed. “You smell better already!” Jace cooed, his tone filled with amusement. “No more rank stench of alcohol.”

“Thanks,” sarcasm dripped off of Alec’s tone. “I totally love being told that I reek.”

“It was true,” Helen answered simply. “You did reek.” She was standing beside Mark, whom held her bag over his shoulder, and along with a few textbooks. He set them down on the counter, and slid Helen’s bag over to her. “You are related to Miss Herondale Jace, no?” She asked, her gaze piercing. 

Mark stiffened at Helen’s question. He, out of all of them, knew how dangerous it was to ask Jace questions about his family. Once, Mark had asked Jace if he remembered Stephen, and Jace had punched Mark so hard that he had broken Mark’s nose. There was no bad blood between them, but, it seems as if Mark feared for his sisters safety. Moving to stand in front of her, Mark and Jace shared a wary glance before Mark relaxed. He still didn’t move from in front of Helen. Alec didn’t blame him.

Jace’s features screwed up for a moment, and then he shook his head. He didn't like talking about the Herondale side of his family. When he had been adopted into the Lightwood family, he had believed his last name was Wayland because that’s what Valentine told everybody when he had ‘found’ Jace. Then there was speculation about Jace being a Morgenstern; the missing Morgenstern son, whom had been presumed dead after the fire that swept through the Morgenstern estate over seventeen years ago. Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern; J.C.; Jace. But, after some time, Jace discovered evidence that led him to believe that he was a Herondale: Stephan Herondale’s first and only son. Though Valentine had not yet told Jace that Jace was not his son, Jace had come to disregard all of it. He was a Lightwood, regardless of what his blood told him. It had been an awkward and hard ride for everyone involved, but in truth, Jace had come out on the other side stronger than anyone could have anticipated.  

“I don't think so,” Jace finally answered, his tone tight and slightly higher pitched than usual. “She is . . . Stephen’s ex-wife, I believe. And my mother, if she is my mother, is Celine Herondale. Besides, Amatis is a Graymark originally. Luke’s sister.” Stuffing a piece of a muffin into his mouth, Jace looked away, obviously uncomfortable. His cheeks were flushed with color.

Reaching over, Alec gently squeezed his adoptive brothers arm. He knew how hard this all has been on Jace; wondering who his parents were, if the love of his life was his sister — wondering just where he belonged in the world. It was all a massive strain on him, and Alec pitied him. There was a fine line between wallowing and suffering, albeit. The first few months that Jace was going through this, he wallowed to no end and it made Alec want to smack him silly. 

“Its time to go,” Clary sauntered into the room, sliding her arms around Jace’s waist. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder blade, sighing wistfully. Jace leaned into her, the color fading. “Don’t wanna be late for her class, especially on the first day. I heard she’s tough on a lot of people, regardless of stature.”

“Alright, grab your coffees and lets go,” Jace heaved himself away from Clary, leading their little ragtag group outside of the dorms. Simon and Aline were waiting outside for them, chatting about their favorite Marvel comic book and their favorite superhero. With those two lagging behind at the back of the group; Jace, Isabelle, Clary and Helen enthralled in some argument about a class they all had together, Alec and Mark chose to simply just walk together side-by-side in comforting silence. Mark was easy to be around. Every silence was comfortable, and he never required too much conversation. He and Alec were alike in that sense.

When they reached the building and came inside, Alec checked the clock on the wall, seeing that they were still five minutes early. Five minutes to spare! Thank goodness, it would not have bode well for them to have showed up late. Clary and Jace slid off to find seats together, whilst Simon, Aline, Mark and Helen grabbed four seats near the back. Alec and Isabelle managed to snag two seats together in the middle, sharing quick smiles of anticipation. By now, all of the seats were full, and students were standing near the entryway with their books in their arms, struggling to make makeshift seats. Amatis was supposed to be a good teacher; very thorough and willing to help any student that needs it. She was teaching some form of science that the Institute used frequently, and though Alec had no interest in it, he assumed he would enjoy the class to some degree.

“Good afternoon, class! You’re all late. If you are not here ten minutes before class starts, you are late.” Amatis’ hair was pulled back into a tight bun, straggly strands of hair framing her face. Her cobalt gray optics were hidden by a pair of glasses, and her lips were pinched in annoyance. Wrinkles fanned out from the corners of her eyes, showing age. “Camille! Come pass out the entry tests. Yes, you all heard me right: _entry tests_. These will help me judge who knows what, and what we need to focus on in the future.”

 _Camille_! 

Panicking, Alec nudged his sister frantically, who hissed in return. Smacking his arm, she shook her head at him, and Alec knew he was going to have to wait until after class to talk to her about this. Though he tried to avoid Camille’s gaze during her passing out the tests, he felt her cold gaze staring down at him, and Alec  _knew_ that she knew about what he and Magnus had done last night.

Great. Not even a week into his first semester, and he had already made an enemy!


	4. oh, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y i k e s, I know I've slacked! I'm so sorry that this chapter was ended on such an unusual / rushed note, and that it took so long to update. ;; Life has just been difficult, & I've so much muse for Bates Motel, so I've been waiting for some return of TMI muse to continue !

Throughout the entirety of the class, Alec could feel a cold gaze lingering on his back. Usually, students weren’t the teachers assistants, but since Camille had requested it, Amatis had granted Camille the opportunity. Alec guessed that this was going to look good on Camille’s record if Morgenstern ever needed to check up on all of her accomplishments. But it meant that Alec was stuck with her in this class twice every week. There was no escaping that vixen! Though he couldn’t prove that she had been staring daggers into his back, he still had the sneaking suspicion that she knew what had happened between Magnus and himself that previous night.

“You okay? You seemed pretty spooked during Miss Herondale’s lecture,” Isabelle dropped back to walk with Alec, her dark gaze bright with concern. They were leaving the lecture hall, heading back to the dorm for an early dinner.

Mark, Aline, Simon and Clary had needed to sprint across campus for another class that they had together, something that had to do with advanced math. Alec envied them. Most of his classes were spread out across the week, and he never had more than two classes a day. Since he was undecided about his major, he was taking the most basic classes possible until he finally made up his mind. His decision to fool around with the classes the first year had indeed pissed Robert off, but Robert had been unable to do anything about it. This was Alec’s decision.

Jace was hanging behind them, his low voice indistinguishable. Alec had heard Jace’s phone ringing, and then his brother had dropped back to answer. He was presumably on a call with Valentine, seeing as how he kept snapping things out underneath his breath. Helen walked silently next to Alec, her head tilted back, and a small smile gracing her pale lips. The sun shone directly on her face, making her bright hair gleam and her pale skin seem tan.

“Just thinking about Camille,” he answered, forcefully looking at his sister. He didn’t want to talk about this, but he knew he had no other choice. “I can’t stop thinking about how she might know.” He drew his thumb across his jaw, anxiety pulsing beneath his skin. “I can’t just ignore this. I made a huge mistake in sleeping with Magnus last night. I shouldn’t have done it, I shouldn’t have done _anything_ that I did. I wish I didn’t do it. I really wish I had had enough self-control to have walked away from him last night. ” 

Isabelle gently wrapped her hand around his bicep, squeezing gently. “We’re Lightwood’s, remember? We’ll get through this. _You’ll_ get through this.” She touched the back of his jacket, her pointer finger tracing the _L_  that marked them as superior to everyone else here. “Together, or not at all. We’ve all been through worse, remember. A blonde bitch isn’t going to be the death of us, nor you. This’ll resolve itself soon.” 

Alec grunted. “I hope you’re right.” 

“Hey, Alec!” A new voice sounded, and someone came running up to him. Unsteadily, Alec swayed in surprise as hands wrapped around his arm. Looking down in surprise, Alec stiffened before relaxing. The nameless girl whom had purple streaks in her hair was clinging to his stiff arm, and the pink-haired girl along with Eric followed closely behind. 

“I didn’t know you were in Amatis’ class,” Eric commented. He looked better than he did last night; his hair was clean and looked to be a dusty brown, and it was smoothed back onto his head. His eyes were bright and clear, green in color, and brimming with intelligence. Though his shoulders remained slumped, and he looked exhausted, he didn’t look much like the pothead Alec had met. His teeth were whiter, and he even smelled like cheap cologne. “Let me see your schedule? Maybe we have more classes together,” amusement sparked inside of Eric’s gaze, and Alec wondered if Eric was making plans for more pot sessions. 

Motioning for Isabelle to catch up to Helen, Alec saw that Jace had completely stopped on the sidewalk. He looked angry, and he was spitting something into he phone. Figuring that he would have a talk with him later, Alec focused on fishing his schedule out of his bag, handing it to Eric once he had it.

“Oh! You know Simon Lewis?” Eric asked, rubbing his thumb across Simon’s name. 

“Yeah, his best friend is dating my brother.” 

“You mean Clary?” He moved his thumb to Clary’s flourished writing, tracing her signature. “ _Clarissa Fray_ ; Simon’s first love.” _You mean Clarissa Fairchild_ , the thought passed through Alec’s mind, but he didn’t bother to correct Eric. Though she had not legally changed her name to Clarissa Fairchild, she introduced herself as such. Her family surname meant more to her than the false surname Jocelyn had given her when she was born. Sentiment flashed through Eric’s expression, but it was gone before Alec was sure it was there to begin with.

Did Eric have feelings for her? No, it was impossible. Clary never mentioned him before, and he doubted that Eric would be her type. 

Taking his schedule back when Eric handed it to him, Alec nodded. “Yep. I share a dorm with Simon, and Clary comes over quite often. She always has, it’s been kind of her thing to ruin whatever is going on with Jace and I,” though he sounded serious, amusement made his tone light. It was well known that Alec had not been too fond of Clary when she had first entered their lives. He had truly just wanted her to go — return back to her mundane life, and leave his family and Jace alone. But after some time, and after finding out just how Jace felt about her, he forced himself to accept Clary for who she was, and how she came to be like a sister to him.

Eric completely brushed over Alec's words, and Alec had to stifle a twinge of annoyance. “Simon and I are actually in a band together. We’re called The Mortal Instruments. He actually came up with it himself. I’ve no clue where he even came up with such a catchy name. I’m Eric Hillchurch, the drummer. This is Kirk Duplesse, the lead, even though he sucks,” Eric gestured towards Kirk, a teen with a sharp jaw, a mop of dark hair, and dark eyes. Kirk dipped his head at Alec, and smacked Eric’s shoulder after he insulted him. Eric hissed, but pressed on. “And this is Matt Charlton. No one really knows what he does, but he’s kinda here for moral support.” 

Matt was stocky and tall, wearing an orange tanktop despite the cool weather. His hair was blond, but his crown was dyed bright red. Scruff lined his jaw, and his eyes were hidden by sunglasses. In Alec’s opinion, he looked hungover. He must have been at the party last night. “We’re looking for a new lead singer, if you know of anybody,” Matt mumbled, ducking away from a fake punch from Kirk. 

Eric had drifted away as his hungover friends tried to beat the hell out of each other. His arms were slung around both the purple-haired girl and pink-haired girls necks. Kirk suddenly peeled away, his arms sliding around a girls waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. She laughed and tried to push him away, but he clung on. Matt on the other hand looked annoyed as he spoke to Alec. “That’s Blythe, Kirk’s girlfriend.” His pained face suddenly became bright. “And that’s mine, Kate. Tell Simon we all say ‘ _hi_ ’!” He called over his shoulder as he darted towards a brunette, touching his lips to her neck, causing her to audibly squeal.

Alec snorted. From what he gathered, Eric was a sexist pig who didn’t know when he had something good in his life. Those two girls, whatever their names were, were clearly in love with him. Yet, Eric seemed to treat them like bags of meat. Kirk and Matt were with their own girlfriends, and though they looked happy, Alec knew that most college romances never made it to the adult world. Romances would spark to life, but then they would soon fade thanks to how stupid teenagers and young adults were. The only exception that Alec had seemed to witness was Clary and Jace. They had been though so much, and they were still together, after everything. It would take something _big_ to peel them from each other.

Following after Isabelle, Jace and Helen, Alec rolled his shoulders back. The walk to the dorm was long and exhausting. He had pain steadily radiating throughout his lower body, and to his horror, he was beginning to limp. All he wanted to do was just lay down in his room and go back to bed! Was that just too much to ask?

“ _You need to stay up tonight. Wait until like . . . eleven before going to bed! Then you can sleep. Your body will kick back into its original sleeping schedule, so just wait it out._ ” Isabelle would say if he mentioned something about napping, and she would move to affectionately ruffle his hair. He would scoff in turn and roll his eyes, partially upset by the fact that she was right, and the fact that _she_ had to be the one to tell him. 

“Who were they?” Jace’s golden gaze was forcibly bright as they focused upon him. He had gotten off the phone, and he had been waiting for Alec to catch up. “They seemed to be pretty friendly with you,” he commented. His gaze was tinted with exhaustion, and some fresh pain that Alec couldn’t begin to place, but by the anger that also swelled amongst his brothers eyes, he decided not to ask. 

“I met that guy Eric Hillchurch last night, he was a stoner at the boxing day party. I still have no clue who those girls are, but apparently the other two are Matt Charlton, and Kirk Duplesse. They’re in a band called _The Mortal Instruments_ with Simon.” Alec shrugged his shoulders. “I vaguely recall meeting them? Isabelle once went to one of their shows, and I tagged along to go on a walk around the block. Their music is not really to my taste.” 

Jace’s eyes glinted. “Clary once dragged me to one of their shows, too; they were _Guinea Pig Death Posse_  at that point. I slept through the entire thing.”

“I bet Clary wasn’t too happy,” Alec snickered.

“No, she smacked me upside the head after.” 

Comfortable silence settled between them. Alec longed to ask about who Jace had been on the phone with, and why Jace was suddenly all upset and jittery, but he was afraid of his brother snapping at him. Jace could be vindictive when he wanted to, and Alec knew all too well how people were bound to get hurt if he pushed too far. But, Alec knew that he had to have been talking to Valentine. No one else got under his skin like that.

As they drew closer to the dorm, Jace sighed, whirling around to stop Alec in his tracks. “Just ask me whatever you’re about to ask me.” He stated bluntly, one eyebrow arching.

Freezing, Alec hesitated; mulling over his words before stating them. He avoided his brothers gaze once he spoke, for fear of what he'd find in those golden depths. “Was that Valentine you were on the phone with?”

“. . . Yes. He wanted to talk to me about Sebastian, and about my classes, then he started to talk about my mother, and all these different things. It got on my nerves, and I . . . I asked him about my parental heritage. He told me what he tells everyone else: I’m his son, and that’s that. ‘ _You shouldn’t be questioning your heritage. I am your only parent, and that’s all we have to talk about now_.’ It was all I could do not to go over to his house and confront him, maybe even drive my fist into his face.” 

Pity clogged Alec’s mind. His brother didn’t deserve to go through this. He didn’t deserve to question his parents, and whom he belonged to. “Jace, I’m so sorry. Valentine isn’t your father, and Robert might not be either, but he will always consider you one of his own. He loves you more than he loves me,” it was the sad truth, and though Alec spoke it with absolute certainty, he wished to any God listening that it was far from true. “You'll always have a place with us.” His voice was firm, surprising him. “You are his son.” 

Jace snorted. “To your father, I’m a bottom feeder. I was dropped off on the Lightwood doorstep when I was young, and that’s that. I am not his son, and I shall never be. He might be proud of me, but he certainly doesn't play the favorite game. Not when it comes to his boys.”

“He loves and respects you than he does me.” Alec said quietly. 

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you’re twice the man than I am. I am a _huge_ dick. I am a person who can’t see any side of the argument but his own. You give other people a chance; you listen to people, and for one thing — you’ve been protecting Isabelle and I since before I can remember.” Jace paused, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “Do you remember when Iz and I broke the TV, and Robert was so mad that he was ready to murder the two of us, but you were the one that took the fall because Robert had already caught Iz and I sneaking into his office hours beforehand?” 

Alec grunted, showing that he was listening. Jace took that as a sign to continue on.

“He was so angry. I remember how he grabbed the back of your neck and hauled you out of the room, yelling about how you’re supposed to be the responsible one: how you should have been able to know better then to break the damn TV. I was so scared for you. I was so afraid for you, damnit, I'll be damned if I let you believe that Robert loves you any less because you prefer men over women. Men are great!” Jace paused, his lips curling into a sly grin. “Sometimes. Admittedly, we have our faults, but so do women. No species is perfect.”

Isabelle, whom had looped back, connected her hand with the back of her brothers head. “Shut up, Jace.” She scolded, but she looked amused. “Do either of you want to go to yoga with me? There’s a class in ten minutes.” 

Looking at his sister with narrowed eyes, Alec nodded. “Yeah, sure. I could go for . . . yoga.” He had never gone to yoga before. He could do with a chance to relax; ease his stiffened muscles to the point of where they were lax. Maybe he'd fall asleep on the floor, and be able to check out for a little while! “Where is it?”

“In the student center,” Isabelle looked and sounded distracted. “We should go now.”

Jace and Alec shared a look, and Alec eventually shrugged. “Alright, we’ll continue this conversation later?”

“Nope.”

“Sounds good!” Watching as their bother stalked away towards their dorm, Alec sighed. “Okay, Izzy, lead the way.”

His sister practically bounced down the path to the student center. Alec stayed behind her as her long hair swung to-and-fro, and a large part of him wanted to clip the long locks right off. Too many times her hair had hit him in the face whilst they walked, and she had done nothing to prevent it. That would be mean of course, but weren’t big brothers mean? Or were they protective? That was one part of being a big brother that Alec always got mixed up. 

“Is there something on your mind, Iz?”

No answer.

“Isabelle.”

Silence.

“ _Izzy_.”

Still silence, and yet she was still walking, her head tilted back as she thought.

“Alright,” Alec said loudly, “I’m going to go ahead and cut your hair! Ready, Iz? I’m going to unevenly cut it and make it so that it will end up breaking.” He headed right up to her, and threaded his fingers through her hair, and yet she still walked on! What the hell was on her mind?

“Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, what the _fuck_ is going on with you?” He snapped, and she still didn't turn. Anger burned inside of him as he fought the urge to lose his temper, struggling with keeping himself under control. How did she manage to slip out of reality so easily like this? How his sister could end up being sucked into an unimaginable world so easily? It was an ability of Isabelle’s that made Alec’s heart ache with utter jealousy. 

Gently, Alec grabbed his sisters shoulders and spun her to face him. Her eyes went wide as she snapped back into reality, and she leaned back; soon narrowing as she saw how close she and her brother were. Her gaze slipped down to the hand on her shoulder, and then to Alec. The surprise on her face was evident, but it was washed away and thus replaced with a blank expression. 

“What?” She eventually said, almost as if Alec hadn’t been speaking to her back for the past five minutes. 

“Damnit, Isabelle,” Alec hissed. “You did it again!”

“Did I?” She didn’t sound too interested. In fact, she sounded bored by Alec’s accusation. “If you say so. C’mon, let’s keep going.”

Alec put his foot down. “Fuck yoga, Isabelle. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. What happened?”

“Simon,” she said absently. “Simon happened.” 

“That’s not an answer, Izzy.”

“Simon and I had more than just that argument this morning,” she murmured, tucking a lock of her long hair behind her ear. “We’ve been arguing since before we even came out here, Alec. I think our _entire_ relationship is done for.”

Alec’s eyebrows were knitted as he tensed, knowing almost all too well about what was about to come next.

“I don’t think there’s any real way to fix our relationship.”

 _Well, you did go and fuck Sebastian, so,_ the words longed to roll off the tip of his tongue, but he held them back out of respect for his sister. Instead, what he ended up saying was: “Look, this is ridiculous. You and Simon should get over yourselves and just make the fuck up, so the rest of us don’t have to deal with any of this.” He was exhausted, and he didn’t have the patience to deal with his sisters problems when his were getting worse and worse. 

“That was a bit harsher than what you normally say,” she commented, but she knew that he wasn’t feeling too hot, so she let it slide. “Okay, let’s go to yoga. You’ll feel much better after you stretch out.”

The duo headed into the student center, and Alec uncomfortably fumbled around as he followed Isabelle’s suit. He grabbed a mat, a few foam thingies that were supposed to help keep you balanced ( _he thought Isabelle was bullshitting him but, he came to realize that he was indeed wrong_.) and a bottle of water from the vending machine. Since it was Alec’s first class, and Isabelle’s nine-hundredth, she chose to set up in the back with him. He was grateful because God damn, he would hate to be fumbling around on his own with no idea how to do the complicated ‘ _flamingo-dipping-down-into-down-dog-fuck-thing_ ’ without her agile body guiding him.

“When does it start?” He hissed to her, and Isabelle rolled her eyes. He was so fucking hot, and it was so dark in the damn auditorium. 

“Soon,” she hissed back. 

A few people turned to stare at them before a sharp rebuke from Isabelle made them turn back around, sniffing as they turned back to whatever mobile application they were on before. They must be yoga snobs; people Alec would never want to get involved with. 

“Okay, guys!” A very familiar voice rang through the room, and Alec froze. “I apologize for running a bit late! After the parties that went on last night, I’m feeling a little worn out myself,” the soft voice of Camille Belcourt sounded, and Alec wanted to dig his eyes out with a rusty spoon. Couldn’t he ever fucking escape her? Nope. It seems not. 

“I just want to make it clear that today will be a low-key session; I understand that a lot of you are still hurting, still drunk from the night before, all of that good stuff. Even Magnus, who is never hungover, is suffering from side-effects!” She hadn’t seemed to have spotted him yet, so Alec was glad that she couldn’t see him flinch. Out of the corner of his gaze, he could see a familiar figure striding into the room after Camille. He had to agree with his classmates, those two _did_ look good together. Her pale, natural and simple scheme paired well with his dark and exotic schemes. It was startling to see two stunning people acting so well together, and damn, it made Alec’s heart ache.

What really did it, albeit, was when Magnus’ gleaming gaze caught his in the darkness. 

“Izzy,” he muttered as Camille swept on about some shit that made Alec’s head begin to spin. “I have to go. I can’t stay here.”

“Alec—” His sister protested, but she didn’t bother to follow him as he stumbled out of the full auditorium. He was half-blinded by anger and pain as he made a bee-line to the curb, simply sitting on top of it to relax, and then make his way back to the dorm. He just wanted to sleep!

Rubbing the heels of his palms against his closed eyelids, Alec tried to calm himself down. He went to college with those two, it was impossible not to run into them at some point. It was just going to keep happening, no matter what he did to prevent it! What the hell was he supposed to do until his new-found crush healed over, albeit? How was he supposed to handle it until his feelings died down?

“Alexander?” Gentle fingers grace against his shoulder, and instinctively, Alec winced. His gaze flicked up to the person whom had touched him to begin with, and he froze, horror parlaying him to the spot on the cold curb.

Magnus Motherfucking Bane was outside. With him. _With_ _him_. Oh fuck, he was so fucking fucked. 


	5. Update !

This entire series is about to go under construction. Earlier today, as I was rereading & picking through things that I had been writing, I decided that I wanted to touch up each chapter and add more information / take out any repetitive sentences. At the same time, I will be writing the fifth chapter & updating everything at once!

What I do to the other chapters will be minor. There won't be any big changes, or so I hope!

I apologize for things taking so long. My life got hectic, school got in the way, and then I got ill whilst on vacation. I had been intending to write the next chapter on vacation, but, getting sick drained all of my batteries so I decided to just chill. But, updates are coming! Soon!

When I do finish everything and get the fifth chapter to a state in which I like it, I'll be deleting this chapter. Otherwise, thanks for your patience & to those whom have commented so far! I hope y'all continue reading, and enjoy what I have planned. <3 


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